Demonic Legacy: Naruto Kibutsuji

The night the Nine-Tails attacked Konoha began like any other – stars scattered across the velvet sky, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of autumn leaves through the village streets. Kushina Uzumaki's labored breathing punctuated the stillness inside the remote safehouse where she struggled to bring her son into the world.

No one could have predicted how catastrophically everything would change.

"You're doing great, Kushina," Biwako Sarutobi encouraged, her weathered hands steady as they prepared for the delivery. "The head is crowning. Just a little more."

Minato Namikaze, Fourth Hokage of the Hidden Leaf, maintained the complex seal containing the Nine-Tails as sweat beaded on his forehead. His eyes darted between his wife's contorted face and the spiraling patterns on her swollen belly where black markings pulsed with dangerous energy. The fox was fighting the containment harder than they'd anticipated.

"Stay with me," he whispered, both to Kushina and to himself. "We're almost there."

A piercing cry split the air – their son's first breath, his tiny lungs announcing his arrival with surprising force. Relief washed over Minato's features, his blue eyes softening as he gazed at the squirming infant with a shock of bright yellow hair.

"Naruto," Kushina gasped, her voice weak but triumphant. "Our Naruto."

The moment of joy shattered when the safehouse door crashed open. Biwako fell, blood spurting from a fatal wound before she even registered the attack. A masked man stood in the doorway, dark cloak billowing around him.

"Step away from the jinchūriki," the intruder commanded, his voice eerily calm as he snatched the newborn Naruto and held a kunai to the infant's throat. "Or your son dies before he's even named."

What followed would be burned into Konoha's collective memory for generations – the extraction of the Nine-Tails, its rampage through the village, the desperate fight to protect countless lives from the bijuu's overwhelming power. But what no historical record would capture was the bizarre anomaly that occurred when Minato, having rescued his son from the masked man, prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice.

The destruction stretched as far as the eye could see. Buildings reduced to splinters, ancient trees uprooted like weeds, bodies of brave shinobi scattered across cratered ground. The Nine-Tails roared, its nine massive tails lashing through the night sky as it fought against the chains of chakra that Kushina, with her final reserves of strength, had managed to conjure.

"I can't hold it much longer," she cried, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. The extraction had left her mortally wounded, yet somehow she clung to life through sheer maternal determination. "Minato, whatever you're going to do—"

"I know." His voice was steady despite the chaos around them. In his arms, baby Naruto had fallen eerily silent, as if sensing the gravity of the moment. "Kushina, I have to use the Reaper Death Seal. There's no other way to stop the Nine-Tails now."

Her violet eyes widened. "No! You can't—"

"I'll split the chakra," Minato continued, his mind racing through the complex calculations required for the forbidden technique. "The Yin half I'll take with me. The Yang half..." His gaze fell to their son. "Naruto will need it. The masked man – he'll return someday. Our son must be ready."

Kushina's protests died on her lips as the Nine-Tails thrashed against her restraints, one massive paw breaking free and swiping toward them. Minato flashed away, the yellow streak of his Flying Thunder God technique carrying him and Naruto to safety atop a towering pine at the forest's edge.

"I'm sorry, little one," he whispered, laying Naruto on the ceremonial altar he'd hastily prepared. Eight trigrams appeared around the infant as Minato's hands flew through seals, summoning the power necessary for what he must do. "Your mother and I would have loved watching you grow up."

The Nine-Tails, spotting them from across the battlefield, roared with renewed fury. It broke free from Kushina's weakened chains and charged, its massive jaws opening wide enough to swallow a building. Minato steeled himself, completing the final hand sign as he felt the cold presence of the Shinigami materialize behind him.

"Eight Trigrams Seal!"

The spectral arm of the Death God plunged through Minato's back, reaching for the rampaging Nine-Tails. The beast's chakra began to tear away in glowing ribbons, half flowing into Minato himself while the other half streamed toward the tiny form of Naruto.

That's when everything went wrong.

As the first tendrils of the Nine-Tails' chakra touched Naruto's skin, the infant's body convulsed violently. His newborn skin, still pink and delicate, suddenly erupted with spider-web patterns of crimson that spread across his chest and face. The markings weren't the expected spiral of a sealing jutsu – they were organic, almost vascular, as if something inside the baby was fighting back against the incoming chakra.

"What the—?" Minato gasped, his concentration faltering. The Shinigami's pull wavered momentarily, and the Nine-Tails seized the opportunity, one massive claw thrusting forward toward the defenseless infant.

Minato threw himself over his son, the claw ripping through his back. Blood spattered across the altar, drops landing on Naruto's contorted face. The moment Minato's blood touched the strange red patterns on the baby's skin, they pulsed with impossible brightness.

The Nine-Tails howled – not in triumph, but in what sounded unmistakably like fear.

Through a haze of pain, Minato watched in disbelief as the crimson lines on Naruto's skin began absorbing his blood, drawing it in like a parched desert soaking up rain. The baby's eyes snapped open, but instead of infant blue, they glowed with an unnatural crimson light, black patterns swirling where pupils should be.

"Impossible," Minato whispered.

For the briefest moment, the Fourth Hokage sensed something ancient and terrifying emanating from his own son – a presence that felt older, somehow, than even the primordial chakra beast they were fighting. It was as if the blood patterns had awakened something dormant within Naruto, something that had been waiting.

The Nine-Tails retreated a step, its massive form shuddering. "YOU!" the beast snarled, its voice reverberating through the devastated landscape. "HOW ARE YOU HERE? YOU WERE DESTROYED CENTURIES AGO!"

The words made no sense to Minato, but he had no time to ponder them. Whatever was happening to Naruto was interfering with the sealing. The Eight Trigrams pattern beneath them had begun to warp and twist, the symbols rewriting themselves into configurations Minato didn't recognize.

Kushina, having dragged herself to the altar through sheer maternal will, collapsed beside them. "Minato," she gasped, her eyes widening at the sight of their transformed son. "What's happening to him?"

"I don't know," Minato admitted, blood bubbling from his lips. The Nine-Tails' attack had damaged his lungs, and he could feel his life ebbing away. "The seal is failing. Something inside him is fighting it."

"Inside him?" Kushina reached out with trembling fingers to touch Naruto's cheek. The moment her skin made contact with the crimson patterns, she jerked back with a cry. "It burned me!"

Minato made an instant decision. With the last of his strength, he modified the sealing jutsu, his hands blurring through signs so complex and rapid that even the most skilled shinobi would have struggled to follow.

"Dead Demon Consuming Seal: Blood Containment Variant!"

He had no idea if such a technique would work – he was inventing it in his final moments, powered by nothing but desperate paternal love and prodigious genius. Instead of forcing the Nine-Tails' chakra into Naruto, he redirected the Shinigami's power to suppress whatever was awakening within his son's blood.

The crimson patterns receded slowly, reluctantly, sinking back beneath Naruto's skin until only whisker-like marks remained on his cheeks. The baby's eyes faded from that terrifying red back to innocent blue.

But the Nine-Tails remained partially free.

"Not enough chakra," Minato choked out, his vision dimming. "Can't complete the seal."

Kushina dragged herself closer, her red hair matted with blood as she laid her hand on Minato's. "Together," she whispered.

Their combined life force – the last flickers of their existence – poured into the modified seal. The remaining free portion of the Nine-Tails shrieked as it was forcibly compressed and pulled toward the infant. This time, the foreign presence within Naruto remained dormant, allowing the sealing to complete.

The beast's final roar echoed across the devastated village as it vanished into the tiny body of Naruto Uzumaki. The night fell suddenly, eerily silent except for the soft whimpers of a newborn who would never know his parents.

Minato's final thought before darkness claimed him was a prayer and a warning in one: whatever had awakened in his son's blood might someday prove more dangerous than the Nine-Tails itself.

Hiruzen Sarutobi, reinstated as the Third Hokage following Minato's sacrifice, stood over the sleeping infant in the secure room deep within the Hokage Tower. His weathered face was etched with grief and concern as he studied the unusual markings on Naruto's skin.

"They appear to be ordinary birthmarks," said the ANBU medic kneeling beside the makeshift crib, her porcelain mask hiding her expression. "The whisker marks on his cheeks are consistent with being a jinchūriki, but these other patterns..."

She gestured to the faint, barely visible lines that sometimes seemed to shift beneath the baby's skin when he cried or became agitated. They formed no recognizable pattern – not a seal or any jutsu Hiruzen had encountered in his long life.

"And you're certain they're not related to the Nine-Tails' chakra?" the Hokage asked.

The medic hesitated. "I... can't say for certain. The fox's chakra is definitely sealed within him – we can detect that clearly. But these marks... they feel different. Almost as if they're part of his own circulatory system, but not quite blood vessels either."

Hiruzen frowned, stroking his beard. "What did the Yamanaka report when they attempted to sense his consciousness?"

"That's the strangest part, Lord Third." The medic lowered her voice, though they were alone in the secure chamber. "Inoichi said he sensed two distinct presences within the child – one that must be the Nine-Tails, raging and chaotic as expected. But the other..." She shook her head. "He described it as 'dormant but dreaming.' Not like a consciousness at all, but more like... a memory in the blood. Those were his exact words."

As if responding to their discussion, baby Naruto stirred in his sleep. His tiny fists clenched, and for just a moment, those strange patterns beneath his skin pulsed faintly red before subsiding again.

"Memory in the blood," Hiruzen repeated softly. "How curious."

The Third Hokage had seen much in his long life – three great ninja wars, the rise and fall of legendary shinobi, the terrible might of tailed beasts. But something about those shifting patterns beneath an innocent baby's skin disturbed him more than he cared to admit.

"Continue monitoring him," he ordered, pulling a blanket over the sleeping infant. "Day and night. If those patterns manifest more clearly or if anything unusual occurs, I want to be notified immediately."

"Yes, Lord Hokage." The medic bowed deeply. "And what of the village council? They're demanding to know what's to be done with the... vessel."

Hiruzen's expression hardened. "Naruto is not merely a vessel. He is the son of the Fourth Hokage and the legacy of his sacrifice. He will be raised as a child of the Leaf."

"And the Nine-Tails?"

"The village will know he contains it," Hiruzen said grimly, already anticipating the fear and prejudice the boy would face. "But the truth of his parentage remains an S-class secret, as does whatever these strange markings might indicate. For his protection, and for the village's."

As Hiruzen turned to leave, baby Naruto whimpered in his sleep, tiny face scrunching in distress. Deep in the infant's developing chakra network, two forces stirred – one the familiar malevolent energy of the Nine-Tails, the other something far older, patient, and hungry, awakened briefly by Minato's blood before being forced back into dormancy by his final act of desperation.

It would wait. Blood had time. Blood remembered.

Seven Years Later

"Demon brat! Thought you could get away with it, didn't you?"

The blow caught Naruto on the side of his head, sending him sprawling into the alley's filthy puddles. His vision swam, ears ringing as he tried to push himself up on skinned palms. He tasted blood where his lip had split against his teeth.

"I didn't do anything!" he protested, voice breaking. "I was just walking by the shop, I swear!"

The shopkeeper – a bulky man with meaty fists and alcohol on his breath – towered over him, flanked by two equally intoxicated friends. "My entire front display, ruined! Who else would've done it but you?"

Naruto had learned early that protesting his innocence rarely helped. The village saw what it wanted to see – a troublemaker, a vessel for a monster, a living reminder of their darkest day. At seven years old, he'd already grown accustomed to being blamed for every mishap, targeted for every frustration.

But something felt different today. The man's foot connected with his ribs, and Naruto felt something crack inside. The pain was sharper, more intense than he'd ever experienced. For a brief, terrifying moment, his vision washed red, and a voice that wasn't his own whispered through his mind:

Get up.

"Stop," Naruto gasped, curling into a protective ball as another kick landed on his back. "Please stop."

Why are you letting them? GET UP.

The voice wasn't the childish one in his head that sometimes urged him to pull pranks or steal food when the orphanage meals weren't enough. This voice was cold, imperious – ancient, somehow, like the whisper of someone who had seen centuries pass.

"Filthy little monster," one of the men slurred, grabbing Naruto by his blonde hair and hauling him upright. "Maybe we should finish what the Fourth started, eh?"

Something hot and violent surged through Naruto's veins. The strange patterns that occasionally appeared on his skin when he was upset began to emerge, faintly glowing beneath his torn shirt. Pain blossomed across his chest where his ribs had cracked, but it was quickly followed by an odd tingling sensation.

The man holding him froze, his bleary eyes widening as he felt an unnatural heat emanating from the boy's skin. "What the—?"

Naruto's head snapped up, and for a heartbeat, his eyes flashed crimson – not the slitted red of the Nine-Tails that sometimes emerged when he was in danger, but something else: deep blood-red with strange geometric patterns swimming in the irises.

"I said STOP!"

The voice that emerged from Naruto's throat didn't belong to a seven-year-old boy. It resonated with a harmonic quality that sent the men staggering back in primal fear.

More shocking still was what happened next. Before their horrified eyes, the bruises blooming on Naruto's face began to fade. The split in his lip sealed itself with a faint sizzling sound. Most disturbing of all, the broken ribs beneath his shirt audibly snapped back into place with a series of wet cracks.

"Demon," the shopkeeper whispered, no longer belligerent but genuinely terrified. "It's true. The fox—"

"Not the fox," Naruto said, his voice once again his own, though confused and frightened by what was happening to him. He looked down at his hands where the scraped skin was knitting itself together at an impossible rate, leaving unblemished flesh behind.

The men were already backing away, making warding gestures that Naruto recognized from the times villagers thought he wasn't looking. One of them stumbled on a discarded bottle, crashing to the ground with a yelp.

"Stay away from us, monster!" the shopkeeper shouted, helping his friend up before they all fled the alley.

Alone in the sudden silence, Naruto touched his face with trembling fingers. The familiar sting of fresh bruises was gone. He lifted his shirt to examine his ribs – not even a mark remained where he'd felt bone crack minutes earlier.

"What's happening to me?" he whispered.

No answer came, neither from the strange voice nor from the darker presence he sometimes felt lurking in his subconscious during nightmares. But as Naruto stared at his reflection in a broken piece of glass in the alley, he saw something that made his blood run cold.

For just a moment, his eyes weren't their usual bright blue. They glowed crimson, with strange black patterns swirling where his pupils should be.

He blinked, and the unsettling vision vanished, leaving only a frightened boy with whisker marks on his cheeks and questions no one would answer.

Unknown to Naruto, across the village in a hidden chamber beneath the Hokage Tower, an ancient seal inscribed on a monitoring scroll began to pulse with warning light. The blood had stirred again.

That night, Naruto dreamed.

He stood in a vast, elegant room unlike anything he'd ever seen in Konoha. Paper screens painted with mountain landscapes lined the walls. Tatami mats covered the floor, immaculately arranged except where they were stained with spreading pools of crimson.

Bodies lay scattered throughout the chamber – samurai in ancient armor, their swords broken beside them. In the center of the carnage stood a figure dressed in an elegant kimono of deep purple, patterned with white wisteria flowers. Though the man's back was turned, Naruto could see his hair was black as midnight, and an aura of terrible power emanated from him.

"Are you watching, child?" the figure asked without turning, his voice the same one Naruto had heard in the alley. "Are you learning?"

Naruto tried to back away, but his dream-feet wouldn't move. "Who are you?" he managed to ask. "What is this place?"

The figure turned slowly, and Naruto gasped. The man's face was inhumanly beautiful, with pale skin that seemed to glow in the moonlight streaming through the paper windows. But his eyes – they were exactly like what Naruto had glimpsed in his reflection. Blood-red with geometric patterns that shifted and swirled hypnotically.

"I am you," the man said simply. "Or rather, you are me. My blood flows through your veins, awakened by that fool of a Hokage when he tried to force another power into what was already mine."

"I don't understand," Naruto whispered.

The man smiled, revealing teeth too sharp to be human. "You will. Blood remembers, little vessel. Blood always finds a way."

He stepped forward, the elegant kimono rustling softly as he moved through pools of blood that should have stained the fine fabric but somehow didn't touch it. As he drew closer, Naruto noticed something else – faint patterns beneath the man's skin, identical to the ones that sometimes appeared on his own.

"The Nine-Tails recognized me," the man continued, circling Naruto like a predator. "Interesting. The beast must be older than I thought, to remember the time before I was... interrupted."

"The Nine-Tails?" Naruto's eyes widened. "The monster inside me? You know about it?"

The man laughed, a sound like breaking glass. "Monster? How provincial. The fox is merely a construct of chakra – powerful, yes, but ultimately just another form of energy." He leaned closer, those hypnotic eyes boring into Naruto's. "I am something else entirely. Something this world has not seen for a very, very long time."

"What are you?" Naruto asked, his voice barely audible.

The elegant figure straightened, and for a moment, his form seemed to shift – skin cracking to reveal something darker beneath, eyes multiplying across his face, limbs elongating into impossible shapes before settling back into human form.

"I am Muzan Kibutsuji," he said, the name resonating with power that made the dream-room tremble. "The first of my kind, progenitor of demons. And you, Naruto Uzumaki, carry my blood."

Before Naruto could respond, the dream began to dissolve. The elegant room with its paper screens and tatami mats melted away like watercolors in rain. The last thing Naruto saw was Muzan's unnaturally beautiful face, those red eyes with their geometric patterns, and that terrible, knowing smile.

"Blood awakens, little vessel. Blood remembers."

Naruto jerked awake in his small bed at the orphanage, a scream caught in his throat. Sweat soaked his nightshirt, and his heart hammered against his ribs. When he pressed a hand to his chest to calm himself, he felt it – the faint rhythm of patterns moving beneath his skin, pulsing in time with his heartbeat.

Scrambling out of bed, he rushed to the cracked mirror hanging on his wall. In the pale moonlight filtering through his window, he examined his reflection with trembling hands. The whisker marks on his cheeks looked darker, more pronounced. And for just a heartbeat, as his panic peaked, his eyes flashed that blood-red color again.

"It was just a dream," he whispered to himself, repeating it like a mantra. "Just a dream. Just a dream."

But even as the words left his lips, Naruto knew it wasn't true. Something had awakened inside him – something ancient and patient and hungry. And whatever it was, it had been waiting a very long time.

In the depths of the Hokage Tower, Third Hokage Hiruzen Sarutobi pored over dusty scrolls by lamplight, his aged face lined with worry. The monitoring seal had activated three times in the past week – more activity than in the previous seven years combined. Something had changed in Naruto's condition.

"Lord Third," an ANBU operative materialized from the shadows, kneeling respectfully. "The boy has been secured. The incident in the village today..."

"I'm aware," Hiruzen said wearily, not looking up from the ancient text spread before him. "Were there any witnesses besides the three men?"

"No, Lord Hokage. We've placed them under genjutsu. They'll remember an altercation with the boy, but nothing about the... healing."

Hiruzen nodded absently, his finger tracing symbols on the weathered parchment. The scroll had come from the most restricted section of Konoha's archives – records dating back to the era before hidden villages, before the Sage of Six Paths, before chakra as they understood it today.

"These patterns," he murmured, comparing the faded drawings on the scroll to the sketches made by ANBU observers monitoring Naruto. "They're nearly identical."

The ANBU remained silent, awaiting orders.

"Tell me," Hiruzen said suddenly, rolling the scroll closed. "What did Yamanaka report after his latest scan of the boy's consciousness?"

The operative shifted uncomfortably. "Inoichi-san said the Nine-Tails remains securely sealed, but... there was something else. The second presence he noted years ago is no longer dormant. He described it as 'stirring, like something half-awake and hungry.'"

Hiruzen's weathered hands tightened on the ancient scroll. "And the boy himself? Has he shown any signs of awareness about his... condition?"

"He asked the orphanage caretaker why he heals faster than other children," the ANBU reported. "When she couldn't answer, he stopped asking. But he's been examining his reflection more frequently, especially when he thinks no one is watching."

The Third Hokage sighed deeply, suddenly looking every one of his many years. The burden of leadership had never felt heavier. First the Uchiha tensions, now this mystery with Minato's son – it was almost too much.

"Increase surveillance," he ordered finally. "I want to know immediately if those patterns appear again, or if his eyes change color. And find me every historical reference to 'blood demons' in the archives, no matter how obscure."

"Blood demons, sir?"

Hiruzen gestured to the scroll. "This text mentions entities that existed before the time of chakra – creatures that gained power not through manipulating spiritual and physical energy as we do, but through blood itself. Most records were lost or destroyed centuries ago, dismissed as legends..." He trailed off, his gaze distant.

"You believe such creatures were real, Lord Third?"

The Hokage's expression darkened. "I believe Minato Namikaze encountered something unexpected when he sealed the Nine-Tails. Something that even the Death God's power could only temporarily suppress, not destroy." He looked up, his eyes hard with resolve. "And I believe that whatever it is, it's beginning to awaken in Naruto Uzumaki."

The ANBU bowed deeply. "What are your orders regarding the boy?"

For a long moment, Hiruzen was silent, weighing impossible choices. To isolate Naruto completely might protect the village if something dangerous was emerging, but would likely accelerate the very awakening they feared. The loneliness and pain the boy already endured were catalysts for change. Yet to do nothing while an unknown power grew within him was equally unthinkable.

"We continue as we have," he decided finally. "Watch, but do not interfere unless absolutely necessary. Naruto must never know he's being monitored. And..." He hesitated. "Find Iruka Umino. I have an assignment for him."

"The Academy instructor? But why—"

"Because Naruto needs someone who sees him as more than just a jinchūriki or a potential threat," Hiruzen cut in, his voice firm. "Someone who might guide him toward humanity rather than whatever else stirs in his blood."

As the ANBU disappeared to carry out his orders, Hiruzen returned to the ancient scroll, carefully re-reading a passage that chilled him to his core:

"And the progenitor of blood demons was not destroyed, merely divided. His essence scattered through time, waiting for blood to call to blood. Beware the crimson eyes with their geometric patterns, for they mark the awakening of that which cannot die so long as blood flows in the world."

Outside, dawn was breaking over Konoha. In his small room at the orphanage, Naruto Uzumaki finally fell into an exhausted sleep, unaware of the crimson patterns flowing beneath his skin or the two distinct powers that battled for dominance within him – one ancient and patient, the other primal and fierce. Both hungry. Both awakening.

And in the depths of his subconscious, where dream-logic ruled, Muzan Kibutsuji smiled. The First Blood had found its new vessel, and this world of shinobi with their chakra and their tailed beasts would provide fertile ground for a new kind of power.

The demon's legacy had begun.

The kunai whistled through air, slicing past Naruto's ear close enough that he felt the metal's cold kiss against his skin. He ducked, instinctively dropping lower than necessary, his body moving with a fluidity that surprised even himself. Three more projectiles followed in rapid succession – thunk, thunk, thunk – embedding themselves in the Academy training post where his head had been a heartbeat earlier.

"Too slow, dead last!" Kiba Inuzuka howled with laughter, slapping his thigh. "You looked like a scared rabbit!"

Naruto straightened, brushing dust from his orange jumpsuit with forced nonchalance. "I dodged them all, didn't I?" he shot back, ignoring the racing pulse in his veins. Something felt different today – sharper, more immediate. His senses seemed heightened, the world around him moving just a fraction slower than it should.

Iruka-sensei's clipboard snapped shut with a decisive crack. "That's enough practice for today. Kiba, your aim is improving, but you're still throwing with too much wrist action." His eyes shifted to Naruto, assessing. "Naruto... interesting evasion technique. Though not exactly what I was demonstrating."

A few students snickered. In the back of the group, Sasuke Uchiha merely folded his arms, face impassive yet somehow radiating disdain.

Naruto opened his mouth for a retort when a strange sensation crawled up his arm – like insects marching beneath his skin. He glanced down to see faint crimson lines pulsing just beneath the surface, tracing patterns that resembled neither veins nor chakra pathways. They disappeared almost instantly, but not before Iruka caught the flicker of concern that crossed his face.

"Class dismissed," the instructor announced. "Except you, Naruto. I'd like to discuss your form."

The other students filed away, Kiba making exaggerated whipping motions while Shikamaru trudged past with his customary expression of supreme boredom. Sakura and Ino huddled together, stealing glances at Sasuke while pointedly ignoring Naruto altogether.

When they were alone, Iruka's stern expression softened. "Are you feeling alright? You looked... uncomfortable for a moment there."

Naruto forced a grin so wide it made his cheeks ache. "Never better! Just hungry! You know how I get when I need ramen, Iruka-sensei!"

His teacher's eyes narrowed, unconvinced. "Your movements were different today. More... fluid. Almost like—" He stopped himself, choosing his next words carefully. "Like you were anticipating the attacks before they came."

"Just lucky, I guess!" Naruto rubbed the back of his head, the gesture deliberately casual.

But Iruka wasn't fooled. He'd been observing Naruto for months now, ever since the Hokage's private assignment. The boy was changing – subtle shifts that might go unnoticed by others, but to Iruka's trained eye, they were impossible to miss. The sudden bursts of coordination in a child otherwise clumsy. The occasional flash of something otherworldly in those blue eyes. The way small cuts and bruises vanished almost as quickly as they appeared.

"Naruto," he said quietly, crouching to eye level, "if something is... happening to you, you can tell me. I want to help."

For a moment, the mask slipped. Naruto's smile faltered, revealing a glimpse of the confusion and fear that lurked beneath his brash exterior. His hand unconsciously moved to his forearm where the crimson patterns had briefly appeared.

"It's nothing," he insisted, the lie hollow between them. "Just trying to get better at ninja stuff, you know?"

Iruka sighed, recognizing the walls the boy had built around himself. "Alright. But my door is always open, remember that." He straightened up, ruffling Naruto's blonde spikes. "And since you mentioned being hungry, how about Ichiraku? My treat."

Naruto's face lit up with genuine delight. "Really? Awesome!" He bounced on his toes, momentarily just a normal twelve-year-old excited about ramen.

But as they walked through the village streets, Iruka couldn't shake the unease crawling up his spine. Whatever was happening to Naruto Uzumaki went beyond the Nine-Tails sealed within him. Something else was emerging – something neither of them understood.

Later that night, in the cramped apartment the Hokage had arranged for him after he left the orphanage, Naruto stood before his bathroom mirror. Steam from his shower fogged the glass, but he wiped it clear with one determined swipe.

"Show me," he whispered to his reflection. "I know you're there."

Nothing happened at first – just the same whiskered face staring back at him, blue eyes narrowed in concentration. Then he closed his eyes, focusing inward as he'd been practicing in secret. He reached for that strange second presence he sometimes felt stirring in his subconscious – not the chaotic, malevolent energy he'd come to associate with the Nine-Tails, but something colder, more calculating.

Muzan.

The name he'd heard in his dreams slipped through his mind, and instantly the change began. Crimson patterns emerged beneath his skin, faint at first, then darkening until they traced elaborate designs across his chest and arms. His eyes snapped open, revealing irises the color of fresh blood, geometric patterns swirling where pupils should be.

"There you are," Naruto breathed, both terrified and fascinated.

The reflection smiled back at him, the expression not quite his own.

You're learning, little vessel.

The voice came from everywhere and nowhere, resonating inside his skull. Naruto had grown more accustomed to these brief communications over the past few months, though they still sent shivers down his spine.

"What are you?" he asked, not for the first time. "Why are you inside me?"

The crimson patterns pulsed once, almost like a shrug. I am blood. I am power. I am potential. And I am yours, if you have the courage to claim me.

"And the Nine-Tails? Are you connected to it somehow?"

A sensation like cold laughter trickled through his mind. The fox is nothing but chakra given consciousness. Primitive. Limited. I am something far older, far greater.

Naruto pressed his palms against the mirror, studying the patterns as they shifted beneath his skin. They no longer frightened him as they once had. Instead, a strange fascination had taken root – a growing curiosity about what these abilities might mean.

"Can you help me become stronger?" he asked suddenly. "Strong enough to become Hokage? To make everyone acknowledge me?"

The presence seemed to consider this, the patterns flowing more rapidly for a moment. Power comes with knowledge. Knowledge with practice. Let me show you what you might become.

Without warning, Naruto's right hand transformed. Fingernails lengthened into razor-sharp blades that gleamed in the bathroom's harsh light. The skin hardened, taking on a darker hue with scale-like patterns. The change was instantaneous and painless – one moment human fingers, the next something else entirely.

Naruto gasped, flexing the transformed appendage. The claws moved as naturally as his normal fingers had, responding to his thoughts with perfect precision.

"How—?"

Blood demon art. The first of many skills you might master.

As quickly as it had changed, his hand reverted to normal, leaving no trace of the transformation. The crimson patterns beneath his skin faded gradually, retreating like tides pulling back from shore. His eyes returned to their natural blue, though a faint ring of red lingered around the irises for several seconds longer.

Naruto slumped against the sink, suddenly exhausted. These manifestations always drained him, as if the power extracted some cost from his body. Yet each time, the fatigue was less severe, the recovery quicker. He was adapting.

A sharp knock at his door jerked him from his thoughts.

"Naruto? It's Iruka. I brought some study materials for tomorrow's test."

Panic flashed through him. Had Iruka-sensei sensed something? The teacher had been paying unusually close attention to him lately, showing up at odd hours with food or offering extra training sessions.

"Just a minute!" Naruto called, checking the mirror once more to ensure all traces of the transformation had vanished. Satisfied, he hurried to the door, plastering on his trademark grin as he swung it open. "Iruka-sensei! You didn't have to do that!"

The instructor stepped inside, his eyes darting around the apartment with what seemed like casual interest but was actually a trained shinobi's careful assessment. Nothing appeared unusual – just the typical chaos of a twelve-year-old boy living alone. Instant ramen cups piled high in the trash. Scrolls and kunai scattered across the small table. Clothes draped over chairs.

"I know how you struggle with written exams," Iruka said, placing a small stack of papers on the table. "These practice questions should help."

"Thanks!" Naruto replied with forced enthusiasm, knowing he'd probably ignore them completely. Book learning had never been his strength, and lately, his mind seemed even less capable of focusing on academic subjects. Other interests consumed him – particularly experimenting with the strange abilities that occasionally manifested.

Iruka lingered, clearly wanting to say more. "Naruto," he began hesitantly, "the Hokage asked about your progress today."

Something cold slithered down Naruto's spine. "The old man? What did he want to know?"

"Just checking in. He cares about you, you know." Iruka's gaze was piercing now, searching for signs of... what? "Have you been sleeping well? Any unusual dreams?"

The question was too specific to be casual. Naruto's defenses immediately went up, his posture stiffening despite his efforts to appear relaxed.

"Nope! Sleep like a log!" he lied, ignoring the fact that his nights were increasingly filled with strange visions – feudal castles, samurai with special breathing techniques, desperate battles against creatures with impossible abilities. Muzan's memories, he suspected, though fragmented and confusing.

Iruka nodded slowly, unconvinced but unwilling to push further. "Well, if that changes, I'm here to listen." He moved toward the door, then paused. "Oh, and Naruto? Try not to be late tomorrow. The sparring matches are important for your final evaluation."

After Iruka left, Naruto flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling with narrowed eyes. They were watching him – probably had been all along. The realization should have angered him, but instead, it sparked something calculating in his mind.

They fear what they don't understand, Muzan's voice whispered. Show them only what you wish them to see.

"What do you get out of helping me?" Naruto asked the empty room, the question that had been nagging at him for months.

The answer came after a long pause, cool and amused: Survival. Evolution. A second chance. We are bound, you and I. Your potential is... extraordinary.

Naruto closed his eyes, exhaustion finally overtaking him. As consciousness slipped away, he made a decision: tomorrow's sparring match would be a perfect opportunity to test just how much control he had over these emerging abilities. Not enough to reveal everything, but perhaps just enough to start changing how people saw him.

No longer the dead last. Something new. Something they couldn't ignore.

The Academy training ground buzzed with anticipation. Sparring matches always drew excitement, especially when they determined class rankings before graduation exams. Students lined the perimeter of the dirt arena, some stretching, others strategizing in hushed voices.

Iruka stood in the center with his clipboard, calling out pairings. "Shikamaru versus Choji! Sakura versus Ino! Kiba versus Shino!"

Each match proceeded predictably – Shikamaru surrendering after a halfhearted effort, Ino narrowly defeating Sakura, Shino's insects overwhelming Kiba's aggressive attacks. The real interest came when Iruka announced: "Sasuke versus Naruto!"

A collective groan rose from several students, particularly Sasuke's admirers. Everyone knew how this would end – the top student trouncing the class clown in record time. It had happened so often it was barely worth watching.

Sasuke stepped into the ring with characteristic indifference, hands in his pockets. "Let's get this over with, loser."

Naruto bounced on his toes, his usual bravado masking the calculated plan forming in his mind. Today would be different. Not a complete revelation, but enough to plant seeds of doubt about exactly who and what Naruto Uzumaki might be.

"Begin!" Iruka called, stepping back.

Sasuke moved first, as expected – a direct frontal attack, confident in his superior speed and technique. His fist shot toward Naruto's face with practiced precision, a strike that had connected countless times before.

Except this time, it didn't.

Naruto tilted his head just slightly, the punch sailing past his ear. Sasuke's eyes widened fractionally – the only indication of his surprise – before he followed with a spinning kick aimed at Naruto's midsection.

Again, Naruto evaded, his body flowing around the attack with uncharacteristic grace. No wasted movement, no clumsy stumbling. Just efficient, precise evasion.

Murmurs rippled through the watching students. This wasn't the Naruto they knew.

Sasuke's expression darkened. He increased his speed, launching a combination of strikes that would have overwhelmed most genin-level ninjas. Naruto dodged each one, moving with fluid motions that seemed impossibly aware of where each attack would land before it came.

"Fight back, idiot!" Sasuke growled, frustration creeping into his voice.

Naruto grinned, the expression sharp-edged and predatory. "If you insist."

He countered with a palm strike so fast several students gasped. Sasuke barely blocked it, the force pushing him back several steps. Before he could recover, Naruto pressed forward with a series of attacks that borrowed from no Academy technique – movements too fluid, too unpredictable.

Inside, Naruto felt the crimson patterns stirring beneath his skin, responding to his elevated heartbeat. The voice in his mind whispered guidance, suggesting angles of attack, predicting Sasuke's responses with uncanny accuracy. He kept the patterns suppressed, allowing only the enhanced reflexes and speed to manifest.

Sasuke's surprise gave way to cold determination. He'd never seen Naruto fight like this, but he wouldn't be shown up by the class failure. Channeling chakra to enhance his movements, he launched a counteroffensive that drove Naruto toward the ring's edge.

The excitement around them built as students realized they were witnessing an actual match rather than the expected rout. Even Iruka watched with narrowed eyes, clipboard forgotten in his hand.

Backed against the boundary line, Naruto made a split-second decision. As Sasuke charged in for the winning blow, Naruto channeled a tiny fraction of the strange power lurking in his blood. His fingers elongated ever so slightly – not enough to become the claws he'd manifested in his bathroom, but just enough to give his counterattack unprecedented sharpness.

He slashed outward, the movement a blur. Sasuke leapt back, but not before Naruto's strike caught the front of his shirt, tearing five perfect lines through the fabric without touching the skin beneath.

A shocked silence fell over the training ground. Sasuke stared at the torn shirt, then at Naruto's hands, which had already returned to normal. Something unreadable flashed in the Uchiha's eyes – not just anger or embarrassment, but a spark of genuine wariness.

"Enough!" Iruka stepped between them. "Match goes to Naruto by boundary violation."

The announcement fell like a thunderclap. Naruto had never beaten Sasuke. Not once in all their years at the Academy. The established order had been upended in the span of a three-minute match.

"No way!" Kiba shouted what everyone was thinking. "He must have cheated somehow!"

Naruto merely shrugged, affecting a casual demeanor despite the triumph singing in his veins. "Guess I've been practicing."

Sasuke said nothing, but his gaze remained fixed on Naruto with new intensity. He'd felt something during that final exchange – a flicker of chakra unlike anything he'd encountered before. Colder. Sharper. Almost... hungry.

As the class dispersed for lunch, hushed conversations erupted everywhere. The dead last had beaten the rookie of the year. Impossible, yet they'd all witnessed it.

Iruka grabbed Naruto's arm as he tried to leave, pulling him aside with careful discretion. "What was that?" he asked, voice low and urgent.

"What? I won fair and square!" Naruto protested.

"That wasn't Academy taijutsu. Those movements..." Iruka's eyes narrowed. "Who's been training you?"

Naruto's mind raced. "I've been practicing on my own! Watching other ninjas and copying them. That's not against the rules, is it?"

The half-truth hung between them. Iruka's grip tightened momentarily before he released Naruto's arm with a sigh.

"No, it's not against the rules. But Naruto, if there's something you're not telling me..."

"I'm fine, Iruka-sensei!" Naruto flashed his brightest smile. "Just tired of being the worst, that's all."

Before his teacher could press further, Naruto bounded away, energy thrumming through his body like electricity. He felt powerful. Noticed. For once, the whispers following him weren't about the demon fox or his pranks, but about his unexpected skill.

A taste of what's possible, Muzan's voice approved. But control is essential. Too much, too fast, and they'll fear rather than respect you.

Naruto nodded imperceptibly, making his way to his usual isolated lunch spot on the Academy roof. The demonstration had achieved exactly what he'd wanted – a small crack in the perception others had of him, without revealing the true extent of the changes occurring within his body.

He didn't notice the shadow that followed him, nor the pair of dark eyes watching his every move with newfound interest.

"The patterns appeared again during physical exertion," Iruka reported, standing at attention before the Hokage's desk. "Brief, but unmistakable. And his fighting style... it was nothing like what we've taught him."

Hiruzen Sarutobi packed his pipe methodically, weathered fingers tamping down the tobacco with practiced precision. "Did anyone else notice?"

"The students saw only his improved abilities. But Sasuke Uchiha seemed... disturbed by their match. He may have sensed something unusual."

The Hokage lit his pipe, drawing deeply before releasing a cloud of fragrant smoke. "And you believe this is connected to the... other presence within him? Not the Nine-Tails?"

Iruka hesitated. "The Nine-Tails chakra has a distinct signature – red, visible, corrosive. This was different. Subtle. Almost like..." He searched for the right words. "Like his blood itself was changing him."

Hiruzen's eyes sharpened. "His blood?"

"When he moved, I caught glimpses of patterns beneath his skin – following what looked like circulatory pathways, but not quite matching normal vasculature." Iruka shook his head. "And for just a moment, during his final attack, his fingers seemed to... elongate. Not like a transformation jutsu, but as if his bones and tissues were reshaping themselves."

The Hokage fell silent, contemplating this information. The ancient scrolls he'd been studying mentioned similar manifestations – blood demon arts, they were called in texts so old the language had required special translation jutsu.

"Has he spoken to you about dreams? Visions? Any voice or presence he might be sensing?"

"He denies having unusual dreams, but his hesitation suggests otherwise." Iruka frowned. "Lord Hokage, what exactly are we dealing with? Is Naruto in danger?"

Hiruzen sighed heavily, suddenly looking every year of his advanced age. "I don't know, Iruka. The sealing technique Minato used was unprecedented – a desperate measure in our darkest hour. We understood its effect on the Nine-Tails, but there may have been... unforeseen consequences."

He rose from his desk, moving to the window that overlooked the village. Below, ordinary citizens went about their daily lives, unaware of the potential threat evolving in their midst – or the difficult decisions their leader might soon face.

"Continue monitoring him. Encourage his development, but watch for any sign that he's losing control." The Hokage's voice hardened. "And Iruka? If his eyes change color – particularly to red with geometric patterns – you are to notify me immediately, no matter the hour."

Iruka bowed deeply. "Yes, Lord Hokage."

As the instructor departed, Hiruzen returned to the ancient scroll he'd been translating earlier that day. A particular passage had haunted him for weeks:

"The blood demons cannot be killed by conventional means. Their flesh regenerates, their wounds heal, their very essence adapts. Only total solar exposure or the special breathing techniques of the demon slayers could truly end them. And the progenitor, Muzan Kibutsuji, was the most formidable of all – capable of controlling his blood to transform his body at will, to create subordinates from human victims, to survive injuries that would destroy any other being."

The Hokage closed the scroll with careful hands. If even a fraction of what these ancient texts described was true, and if that power was somehow awakening within Naruto Uzumaki... the implications were staggering.

A village housing not just the Nine-Tailed Fox, but potentially something far older and more terrible.

Dreams came to Naruto that night, more vivid than ever before.

He stood on a moonlit mountain path, watching as a young man in a green-checkered haori faced down a demon with a wild boar's head. The warrior moved with impossible grace, his blade glowing blue as he executed a perfect flowing form.

"Water Breathing, Tenth Form: Constant Flux!"

The sword cleaved through the demon's neck, causing the creature to dissolve into ash. Naruto observed with clinical interest, understanding somehow that these weren't merely dreams but memories – Muzan's memories, witnessing the techniques of his ancient enemies.

The scene shifted. A grand estate materialized around him, paper lanterns casting warm light across immaculate gardens. Muzan walked among elegantly dressed nobles, his form perfectly human save for those distinctive eyes. None suspected the predator in their midst.

"You see how I blend among them," Muzan's voice narrated, as if conducting a lesson. "Adaptation. Patience. These are as vital as power itself."

Another shift. A dark alley in what appeared to be a feudal-era city. A terrified woman backed against a wall as Muzan approached, his fingertip elongating into a needle-like projection.

"Please," she begged. "I have children—"

"Then they will remember you as you were," Muzan replied calmly, the needle plunging into her forehead. "Not as what you're about to become."

The woman convulsed, blood vessels bulging across her skin as Muzan's blood invaded her system. Some part of Naruto wanted to look away but couldn't. This was important – a demonstration of something fundamental to the power growing within him.

"Most die," Muzan explained dispassionately as the woman's screams intensified. "Their bodies reject my blood. But perhaps one in a hundred survives the transformation."

The woman's features contorted, skin splitting as her jaw extended unnaturally. Fingers lengthened into talons. Eyes bulged, then multiplied across her forehead.

"She will serve me now," Muzan continued. "A new demon, bound to my will through my blood. The more powerful I become, the stronger my creations."

The dream dissolved, reforming into a traditional Japanese room where Muzan sat in elegant human form, sipping tea. Naruto found himself seated across from him, aware that this was no longer memory but direct communication.

"Why are you showing me these things?" Naruto asked, disturbed yet fascinated.

"Knowledge is survival," Muzan replied simply. "You carry my legacy, but without understanding, it's merely untapped potential."

"Those people you turned into demons... they lost themselves."

Muzan set down his tea cup with aristocratic precision. "Weak vessels shatter under pressure. But you..." His crimson eyes studied Naruto with calculating interest. "You're different. Your body already contained one powerful entity when my blood awakened. You've adapted in ways I find... intriguing."

"The Nine-Tails," Naruto confirmed. "Everyone in the village fears it. They call me monster because of it."

"Yet you desire their acknowledgment." Muzan's tone carried faint amusement. "How human of you."

Naruto leaned forward. "I'll become Hokage. The strongest ninja in the village. Then they'll have to see me for who I am."

"And who are you, Naruto Uzumaki?" Muzan's eyes gleamed. "The orphan boy? The Nine-Tails' jailer? Or something new entirely?"

The question hung between them, unanswerable yet vital. Naruto struggled to articulate the confusion of his identity – the lonely child seeking validation, the determined ninja-in-training, the vessel of two powerful entities constantly pulling him in different directions.

"I don't know yet," he admitted finally. "But I'll figure it out my own way."

Muzan inclined his head, a gesture that might have been respect. "Your strength grows daily. Soon, you'll face a choice – continue hiding your true nature, or embrace it fully."

"What happens if I embrace it?"

"Power beyond anything this village has witnessed in centuries." Muzan's voice dropped to a seductive whisper. "The ability to heal from any wound. To reshape your body at will. To move faster than the eye can track. To create your own servants, if you wish."

The possibilities flickered through Naruto's mind like forbidden fruit – tempting, dangerous.

"And what's the cost?" he asked, surprising himself with the wisdom of the question.

Muzan's perfect features remained impassive, but something like approval flickered in those inhuman eyes. "Perceptive. There is always a price. Hunger. A craving for human blood to maintain your strength. Vulnerability to sunlight, though I sense your Uzumaki vitality might mitigate this somewhat. And isolation – to be unique is to be alone, Naruto. That, perhaps, you already understand."

The dream began to fade, the elegant room dissolving around them. As Muzan's form grew transparent, he offered one final observation.

"Your Academy graduation approaches. A test of your current capabilities. An opportunity to decide how much of yourself to reveal." His voice lingered even as his image disappeared. "Choose wisely, little vessel. The world of shinobi is about to discover there are powers beyond chakra."

Naruto jerked awake, sweat-soaked sheets tangled around his limbs. Moonlight streamed through his window, illuminating his trembling hands. The crimson patterns flowed visibly beneath his skin, pulsing with his accelerated heartbeat.

He stared at them, no longer with fear but with growing resolution. Whatever was happening to him, whatever he was becoming, hiding it completely was no longer an option. The transformation had progressed too far.

But revealing everything would be equally dangerous. The village already feared him for containing the Nine-Tails. How would they react to something potentially more ancient and terrible?

Naruto slipped from bed and moved to his window, gazing out at Konoha's sleeping streets. Somewhere out there, ANBU watchers probably monitored his apartment. The Hokage, Iruka-sensei – they suspected something but didn't yet understand the full truth.

Graduation, he thought. The final exam was only a week away. A test requiring students to perform a basic clone jutsu – his worst technique, the one he'd failed repeatedly due to his erratic chakra control.

A smile spread across his face as an idea took shape. Perhaps there was a way to pass the test while revealing just enough of his changing abilities to establish a new perception without exposing his full nature.

The crimson patterns faded from his skin as his decision crystallized. He would graduate – not as the dead last, not as the demon fox vessel, but as something new.

The Crimson Prodigy of Konoha was about to make his first real appearance.

The day of the graduation exam arrived with clear skies and stifling humidity. Students filed into the Academy building with varying levels of confidence – Sasuke with cold certainty, Sakura with determined preparation, Shikamaru with his customary bored slouch.

Naruto bounced through the doors with exaggerated enthusiasm, the orange jumpsuit making him impossible to miss. But beneath the familiar façade, calculation had replaced his usual impulsiveness. Today would be transformative in more ways than one.

The written portion came first – still challenging for Naruto, but he managed better than previous attempts. The practical exercises followed: taijutsu demonstrations, weapon accuracy, basic ninjutsu application. Through each, he performed adequately but not exceptionally, saving his energy for the final test.

When Iruka called his name for the clone jutsu examination, Naruto entered the testing room with practiced nervousness.

"Alright, Naruto," Iruka said, seated beside Mizuki at the evaluation table. "Create three functional clones to pass."

Naruto made a show of concentrating hard, forming the necessary hand seals with deliberate movements. He gathered his chakra – but instead of forcing it through the pathways required for the standard clone technique, he allowed a measured amount of Muzan's power to mix with it.

"Clone Jutsu!" he shouted.

Smoke billowed around him. As it cleared, three perfect duplicates stood at his side – but these were unlike any clone the examiners had seen before. Where standard clones were insubstantial illusions, these seemed to have physical weight. Their coloration was slightly off, too – a barely perceptible reddish tint to their skin, their eyes a deeper blue than Naruto's own.

Iruka leaned forward, alarm bells ringing in his mind. These weren't regular clones. They weren't shadow clones either. They were... something else.

"Impressive, Naruto," Mizuki said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Though your technique seems... unique."

Naruto rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I've been practicing really hard! Are they good enough to pass?"

Iruka studied the clones with growing concern. One of them met his gaze directly – a level of autonomy impossible for a standard clone jutsu. Had anyone else been watching, they might have noticed how the clone's eyes briefly flashed crimson before returning to blue.

"The requirement is three functional clones," Iruka said carefully. "You've created three... functional clones. You pass."

Naruto's whoop of joy seemed genuine as he dispelled the clones with a wave of his hand. They didn't disappear in the typical puff of smoke, but rather dissolved into what looked disturbingly like flecks of dried blood that vanished before hitting the floor.

Mizuki handed over a Leaf Village headband with a fixed smile. "Congratulations, Naruto. You're officially a genin of Konoha."

As Naruto bounded from the room, clutching his new headband, Iruka and Mizuki exchanged glances.

"Did you see that?" Iruka whispered once the door closed.

"Hard to miss," Mizuki replied, his casual tone belied by the tension in his shoulders. "Seems our unpredictable troublemaker has learned some new tricks."

Iruka nodded absently, already planning his immediate report to the Hokage. The clones Naruto had created matched no known technique in Konoha's arsenal. They had possessed substance, autonomy, and most disturbing of all, what appeared to be circulatory systems visible beneath their skin.

Blood clones. There was no other way to describe them.

Outside, Naruto tied his headband in place with triumphant fingers. Phase one of his plan had succeeded perfectly. He'd revealed just enough unusual ability to shift perceptions without exposing the full extent of his transformation.

The familiar weight of watching eyes followed him as he left the Academy grounds – ANBU observers, no doubt, reporting his every move to the Hokage. Let them watch. Let them wonder. The dead last was dead. Something new had taken his place.

As he walked through the village streets, villagers who'd scorned him for years gave him second glances, noticing the headband with surprise. Naruto smiled, the expression genuine yet touched with something predatory.

Well played, Muzan's voice approved. The first move in a longer game.

Naruto nodded imperceptibly, his mind already racing ahead to what came next – team assignments, missions beyond the village, opportunities to test his growing abilities in real combat.

Unknown to him, events were already in motion that would force his hand sooner than expected. In the shadows of Konoha, Mizuki plotted his theft of the Forbidden Scroll, and Naruto Uzumaki featured prominently in his plans.

The Crimson Prodigy would face his first true test not in the distant future, but in mere hours – and the blood stirring within him would demand its due.

Twilight painted Konoha in shades of amber and shadow as Naruto sat on his apartment rooftop, admiring the way his headband caught the dying light. The metal plate reflected his face – whisker marks prominent, eyes bright with accomplishment. For once, the loneliness that perpetually haunted him had receded, replaced by a cautious optimism.

A flicker of movement in his peripheral vision drew his attention. Mizuki-sensei landed silently on the rooftop beside him, his silver hair glinting in the sunset.

"Congratulations again, Naruto," he said, his smile friendly but eyes calculating. "I knew you'd pass."

Naruto's instincts – sharper now, thanks to Muzan's influence – sensed underlying tension in the instructor's casual posture. Something was off.

"Thanks, Mizuki-sensei! I can't wait to start real ninja missions!"

Mizuki settled beside him, voice dropping conspiratorially. "Actually, that's why I'm here. There's a special test for exceptional graduates – a chance to fast-track your advancement."

Naruto's eyes widened with perfect innocence, even as internal alarms blared. "Really? What kind of test?"

"It requires stealth, courage, and skill," Mizuki explained, leaning closer. "You need to retrieve a scroll from the Hokage's private collection without being detected, then learn one technique from it before morning."

"That sounds like breaking rules," Naruto observed, his voice deliberately naive while his mind raced. The crimson patterns stirred beneath his skin, responding to the potential threat Mizuki represented.

The chunin instructor laughed. "It's a test of your abilities, Naruto. The Hokage knows about it – it's tradition. Only offered to students who show... unexpected potential."

He lies, Muzan's voice whispered. His heart beats too rapidly. His pupils are dilated. He sweats despite the cool evening air.

Naruto pretended to consider the offer, while internally he wondered what game Mizuki was playing. A trap, certainly – but for what purpose? And more importantly, could it be turned to his advantage?

Spring the trap, Muzan suggested. But prepare to become the hunter rather than the prey.

"I'll do it!" Naruto declared with manufactured enthusiasm. "Where's this scroll kept? How will you know if I succeed?"

Mizuki's smile widened, satisfaction evident in his posture. "The Scroll of Sealing is in a vault behind the Hokage's office. Meet me in the forest clearing east of the village at midnight with the scroll, and I'll administer the next phase of the test."

After providing detailed instructions on bypassing the Hokage Tower's security – information no instructor should readily share with a genin – Mizuki departed, leaving Naruto alone with his thoughts.

"He's definitely up to something," Naruto murmured to himself.

Obviously, Muzan's voice carried a hint of disdain. The question is what you intend to do about it.

Naruto considered his options. He could report Mizuki's suspicious behavior to the Hokage or Iruka, but that would mean foregoing an opportunity to test his abilities in a real-world scenario. Moreover, there might be valuable techniques in this Scroll of Sealing – power he could add to his growing arsenal.

You want the scroll for yourself, Muzan observed, not without approval. Your ambition grows along with your strength.

"Just curious what's in it," Naruto defended, though the denial sounded weak even to his own ears. Truth was, he hungered for new techniques, new power – a craving that had intensified as Muzan's blood became more active in his system.

Decision made, Naruto returned to his apartment to prepare. The heist would require stealth, timing, and possibly his emerging blood abilities if things went wrong. He laid out his equipment meticulously – kunai, smoke bombs, wire – with a methodical precision that would have surprised anyone who knew his normally chaotic approach.

Remember, Muzan counseled as Naruto checked his gear one final time, we are strongest in darkness. The night is our ally.

Naruto nodded, feeling the truth of those words in his very cells. Since the blood patterns had first appeared, he'd noticed his senses growing sharper after sunset, his strength increasing as daylight faded. Another aspect of his changing nature, another secret to guard.

As full darkness settled over Konoha, Naruto slipped from his window, moving with the shadows toward the Hokage Tower and the forbidden knowledge it contained. Whether trap or opportunity, tonight would mark another step in his evolution – from academy failure to something this village had never seen before.

The Scroll of Sealing was heavier than it looked, the parchment ancient and fragrant with history as Naruto unfurled it in the forest clearing. Moonlight provided just enough illumination to read the dense text and diagrams covering its surface.

"Shadow Clone Jutsu," he read aloud, fingers tracing the illustrated hand signs. "Creates solid clones with physical substance, evenly distributing the user's chakra among them."

His eyes widened with interest. Unlike the standard Clone Jutsu that had always given him trouble, this technique suited his massive chakra reserves perfectly. And if combined with Muzan's blood abilities...

An intriguing possibility, Muzan's voice agreed. Physical duplicates infused with blood demon art could be formidable.

Naruto set to work immediately, practicing the hand signs while channeling chakra. His first attempts produced malformed clones that dissolved almost instantly, but with each failure, he adjusted his approach. The key seemed to be balancing the raw chakra – which he had in abundance thanks to the Nine-Tails – with precise control.

After an hour of practice, sweat beading on his forehead, Naruto formed the cross-shaped hand seal once more.

"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

Smoke billowed around him, clearing to reveal twenty perfect duplicates – solid, substantial, each an exact copy down to the smallest detail. Unlike his graduation exam "blood clones," these were standard shadow clones, created strictly with chakra rather than Muzan's power.

"I did it!" he exclaimed, examining his handiwork with satisfaction.

The clones grinned back at him, twenty identical expressions of triumph. Naruto dispelled them with a thought, absorbing the rush of their experiences – another useful aspect of the technique.

Now try it with my power, Muzan suggested. Just one clone, infused with blood.

Naruto hesitated. Deliberately accessing the demon blood abilities felt different from the spontaneous manifestations he'd experienced before – more intentional, more like accepting what he was becoming. But curiosity won out over caution.

He formed the hand seal again, this time consciously drawing on the crimson energy that flowed beneath his normal chakra pathways. The sensation was electric, almost intoxicating – power with an edge of hunger to it.

"Blood Clone Jutsu," he whispered, giving name to this hybrid technique.

A single clone materialized beside him, identical at first glance but subtly different upon closer inspection. Its skin held a faint reddish undertone, and when it smiled, its canines appeared slightly elongated. Most telling were its eyes – blue like Naruto's, but with a ring of crimson around the irises.

"Whoa," Naruto breathed, circling his creation. "You feel... different."

The blood clone cocked its head, its movements more fluid than a regular shadow clone's. "I am different," it replied, its voice carrying harmonics beneath the familiar tone. "I am you, but also something more."

Naruto realized with a start that the clone possessed greater autonomy than a standard shadow clone – almost like a fragment of Muzan's consciousness had transferred along with the blood power. The implications were both fascinating and unsettling.

"Can you transform?" he asked curiously.

The blood clone raised its hand, examining it with clinical interest. Slowly, deliberately, the fingers elongated into razor-sharp claws, the skin darkening to a dusky gray with scale-like patterns.

"Remarkable," Naruto whispered, both awed and disturbed by the display.

A sudden rustle of leaves interrupted the experiment. Naruto quickly dispelled the blood clone, watching as it dissolved into crimson particles that vanished like mist rather than the smoke of regular shadow clones.

Iruka burst into the clearing, his expression a storm of worry and anger. "Naruto! What have you done?"

"Iruka-sensei!" Naruto plastered on his most innocent grin. "You found me already? I haven't even had time to learn a second technique!"

Iruka's eyes narrowed, taking in the open scroll and Naruto's disheveled appearance. "The entire village is searching for you! Stealing the Scroll of Sealing is a serious crime!"

"But Mizuki-sensei said—" Naruto began, then stopped as understanding dawned. "This isn't a special graduation test, is it?"

"Graduation test? What are you talking about?" Iruka's confusion was genuine.

Before Naruto could explain, a barrage of kunai sliced through the air toward them. Iruka shoved Naruto aside, taking several hits as they both tumbled to the ground. Blood spattered across Naruto's face – Iruka's blood – and the contact sent a jolt of something primal and hungry through his system.

Blood calls to blood, Muzan's voice whispered, a seductive undercurrent of need in the words.

Mizuki appeared on a branch overhead, two massive shuriken strapped to his back and a triumphant sneer on his face. "Well done finding the brat, Iruka. Now step aside while I take the scroll."

"Mizuki?" Iruka gasped, pulling a kunai from his thigh with a grimace. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm taking the Scroll of Sealing to Lord Orochimaru." Mizuki's gaze shifted to Naruto, contempt evident in his expression. "And eliminating the demon brat is just a bonus."

Naruto clutched the scroll protectively, anger building in his chest. "You tricked me!"

"Of course I did," Mizuki laughed. "It was almost too easy! The village idiot, so desperate for acknowledgment he'd commit treason without question." His voice hardened. "But then, what else should we expect from the Nine-Tailed Fox?"

Iruka stiffened. "Mizuki, stop! That's forbidden!"

"Oh? You think he doesn't deserve to know?" Mizuki's grin turned cruel as he focused on Naruto's confused expression. "Haven't you ever wondered why the village hates you, Naruto? Why everyone avoids you, whispers behind your back?"

Naruto's hands tightened on the scroll. "What are you talking about?"

"The decree that no one can tell you the truth – that you ARE the Nine-Tailed Fox that destroyed our village twelve years ago!"

"That's enough!" Iruka shouted, struggling to his feet despite his injuries.

But Mizuki continued relentlessly. "You're the demon fox that killed Iruka's parents and countless others! You're a monster wearing human skin!"

The accusation hung in the air, terrible in its half-truth. Naruto stood frozen, emotions warring within him – shock, anger, hurt. But beneath these human reactions, something older and colder assessed the situation with predatory clarity.

He knows only part of the truth, Muzan observed. The fox is merely sealed within you. I, on the other hand...

"You're wrong," Naruto said quietly, his voice steadier than it should have been given the revelation. "I'm not the Nine-Tails."

Mizuki blinked, momentarily thrown by the calm response. He'd expected tears, denial, breakdown – not this eerie composure.

"I contain the fox," Naruto continued, understanding clicking into place as years of whispers and glares suddenly made sense. "But that's not all I am."

Crimson patterns began to emerge beneath his skin, spreading across his cheeks and down his neck. The whisker marks darkened and deepened, not with the Nine-Tails' influence but with Muzan's awakening power.

Iruka watched in horror as Naruto's eyes slowly shifted color – not to the fox's slitted red, but to that blood-crimson shade with geometric patterns swirling where pupils should be.

"Naruto," he whispered, "what's happening to you?"

Mizuki, unnerved by the transformation, reached for one of his massive shuriken. "Whatever trick this is, demon, it won't save you!"

The weapon whistled through the air toward Naruto, who made no move to dodge. Instead, just before impact, his arm transformed – elongating, hardening, fingers fusing into a shield-like appendage that deflected the shuriken with a metallic clang.

Both chunin stared in disbelief as Naruto's arm returned to normal, the transformation fluid and seemingly painless.

"My turn," Naruto said, his voice carrying harmonic undertones that sent chills down Iruka's spine.

His hands formed the shadow clone seal, but the technique he called upon was the hybrid creation he'd just developed. "Blood Clone Jutsu!"

The clearing filled with smoke, clearing to reveal not twenty but fifty identical Narutos – each with that same crimson ring around their irises, each emanating a cold, hungry presence that had nothing to do with the Nine-Tails.

Mizuki staggered back, genuine fear replacing his arrogance. "What—what are you?"

The original Naruto stepped forward, the crimson patterns beneath his skin pulsing with each heartbeat. "I'm Naruto Uzumaki of the Hidden Leaf. And I'm so much more than just the Nine-Tails' vessel."

As one, the blood clones surged forward. Unlike regular shadow clones, these moved with unnatural grace and coordination – a single mind controlling fifty bodies. Mizuki fought desperately, his skills as a chunin meaningless against the overwhelming onslaught.

Iruka watched in stunned silence as his former colleague was systematically dismantled – not killed, but comprehensively defeated. Each clone seemed stronger than a normal shadow clone should be, their strikes leaving bruises that spread with unnatural speed, as if some toxin in their touch accelerated the damage.

When it ended, Mizuki lay unconscious and broken on the forest floor, surrounded by a circle of identical Narutos with identical cold expressions.

"Naruto," Iruka said carefully, approaching his student with cautious steps. "Dispel the clones now."

The boy turned, his eyes still that disturbing crimson with geometric patterns. For a heartbeat, Iruka feared he wouldn't recognize him – that whatever had awakened within Naruto had consumed the boy he knew.

Then Naruto blinked, and blue began to reclaim those inhuman eyes. The clones dissolved not into smoke but into particles that resembled dried blood before vanishing completely. The crimson patterns beneath his skin receded gradually, leaving only the familiar whisker marks on his cheeks.

"Iruka-sensei," he said, his voice once again that of a twelve-year-old boy. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—" He gestured vaguely at Mizuki's unconscious form. "—do all that."

Relief washed over Iruka's features, though concern lingered in his eyes. "Naruto, what just happened? That wasn't the Nine-Tails' power, was it?"

Naruto hesitated, weighing how much to reveal. "No. It's... something else. Something I'm still figuring out."

A tense silence stretched between them, broken only by Mizuki's labored breathing. Finally, Iruka sighed, reaching a decision that went against every protocol he'd been given.

"Naruto, close your eyes for a moment."

Confused but trusting, Naruto obeyed. He felt Iruka's hands at his forehead, removing his headband, then replacing it with what felt like another.

"You can open them now."

Naruto blinked his eyes open to find Iruka smiling down at him, the instructor's forehead now bare.

"Congratulations, Naruto. Whatever else is happening, whatever else you might be becoming... you proved yourself a true ninja of the Leaf tonight. You protected the scroll and stopped a traitor." Iruka's smile was tinged with sadness and something like acceptance. "I'm proud of you."

Tears welled in Naruto's eyes – normal, human tears that spilled down his whiskered cheeks. Despite the power stirring in his veins, despite the hunger that had momentarily consumed him during battle, the boy who dreamed of acknowledgment remained at his core.

"Thank you, Iruka-sensei," he whispered.

As they gathered the scroll and the unconscious Mizuki to return to the village, neither noticed the final crimson tear that fell from Naruto's eye, sizzling as it hit the ground and leaving a small, perfect circle of withered grass in its wake.

The Crimson Prodigy had revealed himself – and there would be no turning back.

Blood dripped from the ceiling in perfect crimson spheres, each droplet suspended in midair before shattering like glass against the flooding water below. Naruto stood ankle-deep in the strange amalgamation of sewer and ancient temple that constituted his mindscape, watching as the architecture itself seemed to warp and transform around him.

The familiar rusty pipes that had always lined these mental corridors were changing—crystallizing into vein-like structures that pulsed with unnatural rhythm. The murky water beneath his feet no longer felt stagnant but alive, currents swirling in patterns too deliberate to be random.

"What's happening?" he whispered, his voice echoing impossibly in the cavernous space.

No answer came, but an oppressive presence loomed ahead—the Nine-Tails' chamber, where massive gates had always held back the demon fox. Naruto pushed forward, drawn by morbid curiosity and the undeniable sense that something fundamental had shifted within him since the confrontation with Mizuki.

The corridor opened abruptly into the vast chamber, but the scene that greeted him was nothing like his previous visits. The massive gates remained, but now crimson tendrils—like living blood vessels—wrapped around the bars, pulsating with hypnotic rhythm. Behind the gates, the Nine-Tails thrashed and snarled, its enormous form partially entangled in the same red webbing.

"UZUMAKI!" The beast's voice thundered through the chamber, its slitted eyes blazing with fury and something Naruto had never seen in the demon before—fear. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

Before Naruto could respond, a smooth, aristocratic voice answered from behind him.

"He's done nothing. I, on the other hand, have been quite busy redecorating."

Naruto spun to find Muzan standing there—elegant in his purple kimono, perfectly poised despite the chaotic environment. His crimson eyes regarded Naruto with clinical interest.

"Welcome to the convergence," Muzan said, gesturing toward the fox's cage. "Where demon meets demon, and the vessel begins to understand what he truly contains."

The Nine-Tails slammed against the bars, causing the entire mindscape to shudder. "YOU! Blood Demon! Your kind was purged from this world centuries ago!"

"Evidently not thoroughly enough." Muzan's smile never reached his eyes. "Though I must admit, being sealed within a human child alongside a chakra beast was... unexpected."

Naruto looked between them, pieces clicking together with terrifying clarity. "You know each other?"

"Not personally," Muzan replied, beginning a leisurely stroll around the chamber's perimeter. "But our kinds have... history. Before the era of shinobi, before chakra became the dominant power in this world, blood demons ruled the night. The tailed beasts were wild forces of nature then, largely unconcerned with human affairs."

The Nine-Tails snarled, tails lashing against the creeping blood vessels. "Your kind preyed on humans like cattle! You were a plague!"

"We were evolving," Muzan corrected coolly. "Creating a superior species through selective transformation. The strong survived our blood, the weak perished. Natural selection at its most efficient."

Naruto's mind reeled. Two ancient, inhuman entities trapped within him, their powers mixing and interacting in ways no one could have anticipated. "And now you're both inside me."

"Indeed." Muzan turned his full attention to Naruto, those geometric patterns in his eyes swirling hypnotically. "When the Fourth Hokage attempted to seal the Nine-Tails within you, he inadvertently awakened my dormant blood—blood that has been carried through your maternal line for generations, waiting for the right catalyst."

"My mother?" Naruto's breath caught. It was the first time anyone had referenced his parentage.

Muzan nodded. "The Uzumaki clan has always had... unusual vitality. Exceptional life force. Perfect vessels for power beyond ordinary humans. My blood found refuge there after my physical form was destroyed, diluting through generations until it was barely detectable—dormant, but never gone."

"LIES!" The Nine-Tails roared. "The Uzumaki were seal masters who contained OUR power! They have nothing to do with YOUR filth!"

Muzan merely smiled. "They contained you precisely because they already carried something equally powerful in their blood. Balance, you might say."

The crimson tendrils crept further along the bars, causing the Nine-Tails to retreat deeper into its cage. Naruto watched with fascination and horror as his mindscape continued to transform—the sewer-like aspects receding as elegant architectural elements emerged: paper screens, tatami floors, all veined with those living blood vessels.

"What do you want from me?" Naruto finally asked, cutting to the heart of the matter.

Muzan's perfect features arranged themselves into an expression of benevolent interest. "To help you become what you were meant to be. Neither human nor demon but something transcendent—a perfect synthesis of blood power and chakra."

"To use me, you mean," Naruto challenged, his voice stronger than he felt.

"Perceptive." Muzan inclined his head slightly. "But is that not what everyone in your life has intended? The village sees you as a weapon—the Nine-Tails' jailer. Your teachers watch for signs of the fox's influence. Even your precious Hokage monitors you as a potential threat."

Each word struck like a physical blow, forcing Naruto to confront truths he'd always sensed but never acknowledged.

"At least I'm honest about my intentions," Muzan continued smoothly. "I offer power without pretense of altruism. The ability to heal from any wound. To transform your body at will. To create subordinates loyal only to you. To be feared rather than mocked."

"Don't listen to him, kit," the Nine-Tails growled, its voice unexpectedly subdued. "Blood demons corrupt everything they touch. They offer power but take your humanity as payment."

Naruto looked between them—the ancient fox demon suddenly cast as the voice of caution, and the elegant blood progenitor offering everything he'd ever wanted.

"I don't have to choose between you, do I?" he realized aloud. "I'm the vessel. This is MY mind, MY body."

The water beneath his feet began to recede, the chamber solidifying into polished wooden floors interspersed with areas of dry, cracked earth—a physical manifestation of his assertion of control.

Muzan's eyebrows rose slightly, genuine surprise flickering across his perfect features. "Fascinating. The boy has spine after all."

The Nine-Tails let out a sound that might have been a dark chuckle. "Told you Uzumakis aren't easily corrupted, blood demon."

Naruto stepped forward, newfound confidence straightening his posture. "I'll use both your powers, but on MY terms. To protect my precious people and become Hokage—not to become whatever twisted thing either of you might want."

For a moment, the entire mindscape held its breath. Then Muzan smiled—a genuine expression this time, tinged with something like respect.

"As you wish, little vessel. But remember—blood calls to blood. And sooner or later, blood demands to be fed." He gestured toward the Nine-Tails' cage. "Ask your other tenant what happens when you deny your true nature too long."

With that cryptic warning, Muzan's form dissolved into crimson mist that seeped into the very structure of the mindscape. The blood vessels remained, now pulsing alongside the original pipes in bizarre harmony.

Alone with the fox, Naruto approached the cage cautiously. "Is what he said true? About my clan—the Uzumaki?"

The Nine-Tails regarded him silently for a long moment. "Your clan were formidable seal masters with extraordinary life force. Whether that vitality came from dormant demon blood or not..." Its massive shoulders moved in what might have been a shrug. "It changes nothing about your situation now."

"Which is?"

"Precarious." The fox's eyes narrowed to slits. "Blood demons are parasites, boy. They consume their hosts from within, turning them into extensions of themselves. The fact that you contain me as well creates... unique circumstances."

Naruto processed this, fingers tracing one of the blood vessels that now ran alongside a chakra pipe. "A balance of power."

"For now." The Nine-Tails settled onto its haunches, tails curling around its massive form. "But balances shift. And when they do..." Its fanged mouth stretched into a grim smile. "Well, let's hope you're strong enough to remain yourself when that happens."

The mindscape began to fade, consciousness pulling Naruto back to the waking world. The last thing he heard was the Nine-Tails' rumbling voice:

"Watch for the hunger, kit. That's how it always begins."

Naruto jerked awake, sweat plastering his blonde hair to his forehead. Sunlight streamed through his apartment window, temporarily blinding him—the brightness almost painful after the dark intimacy of his mindscape.

He rubbed his eyes, half-expecting them to flash crimson in the small mirror beside his bed. But only familiar blue stared back, though the whisker marks on his cheeks seemed darker, more pronounced.

"Balance of power," he muttered, recalling the Nine-Tails' warning.

His stomach growled ferociously, the hunger so intense it felt like his insides were trying to devour themselves. This wasn't normal breakfast hunger—this was ravenous, primal need that made his hands shake.

Blood demands to be fed, Muzan's voice whispered through his mind.

Naruto staggered to his refrigerator, yanking it open with enough force to rattle the hinges. Nothing inside appealed—milk, vegetables, leftovers all seemed utterly unappetizing. What he craved wasn't there.

"No," he said firmly, slamming the door shut. "I'm not going down that road."

Instead, he forced himself into the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face until the worst of the craving subsided. As he looked up, water dripping from his chin, he noticed his canine teeth had elongated slightly—not dramatically enough to be obvious to others, but a definite change.

A knock at his door made him jump. "Naruto? It's Iruka. Team assignments are today—don't be late!"

"Coming, Iruka-sensei!" he called back, grateful for the distraction.

Getting dressed, Naruto caught sight of faint crimson patterns briefly appearing beneath the skin of his chest before fading again—like blood vessels momentarily visible then subsiding. The changes were accelerating since the incident with Mizuki, his body adapting to the awakened power with increasing speed.

The hunger gnawed at him as he strapped on his kunai pouch and adjusted his headband. He would need to find a solution soon—some way to satisfy the craving without crossing lines he wasn't willing to cross.

For now, though, he had a more immediate concern: team assignments. The first step toward real missions, toward proving himself as a ninja of the Hidden Leaf. Toward his dream of becoming Hokage.

One mask at a time, he reminded himself, plastering on his trademark grin before heading out into the sunlight that felt just a little too bright against his increasingly sensitive skin.

The Academy classroom buzzed with excited chatter as newly-minted genin speculated about team placements. Naruto slipped into an empty seat beside Sasuke Uchiha, ignoring the dark-haired boy's dismissive glance.

"You actually passed?" Kiba called from across the room, disbelief evident in his voice. "How'd you manage that, dead last?"

Naruto merely smiled, the expression containing none of its usual manic energy. "Guess I'm full of surprises."

Something in his tone made Kiba hesitate, the usual mockery dying on his lips. Before he could respond, Sakura and Ino burst through the doorway simultaneously, arguing about who arrived first and who would sit next to Sasuke.

The normalcy of it all felt surreal after everything that had happened—like watching actors perform a play he'd seen too many times. Naruto observed the familiar classroom dynamics with newfound detachment, aware of the crimson patterns occasionally pulsing beneath his skin when his emotions spiked.

These children have no idea what real power is, Muzan's voice observed. They play at being warriors while fearing the darkness inside themselves.

"Shut up," Naruto muttered under his breath, earning a curious glance from Shikamaru at the next desk.

"Talking to yourself now?" the lazy genius drawled. "Troublesome."

Before Naruto could respond, Iruka entered the classroom, silencing the chatter with his presence. The chunin instructor looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes suggesting he'd had little sleep since the Mizuki incident. His gaze lingered on Naruto momentarily, a complex mix of concern and caution in his expression.

"Starting today, you are all officially ninjas of the Hidden Leaf," Iruka began, his voice carrying the weight of both pride and warning. "But you're still genin—the lowest rank. The hard journey that lies ahead has just begun."

As Iruka launched into his explanation of three-person teams, Naruto felt a strange sensation—a subtle awareness of the blood pumping through the veins of everyone in the room. He could almost hear their heartbeats, sense the subtle differences in their pulse rates. Kiba's quickened with excitement. Hinata's fluttered whenever she glanced his way. Sasuke's remained steady, controlled.

The perception was both fascinating and disturbing. Was this how Muzan experienced the world? People reduced to the rhythm of their circulatory systems, potential vessels for power rather than individuals?

"Team Seven," Iruka announced, snapping Naruto back to attention. "Naruto Uzumaki, Sakura Haruno..."

Naruto perked up slightly. Sakura wasn't his favorite person, but at least she was smart.

"...and Sasuke Uchiha."

A groan escaped Naruto's lips, though more out of habit than genuine disappointment. In truth, being placed with the Uchiha prodigy intrigued him. Sasuke was powerful, focused, driven by demons of his own. A worthy measure against which to test his evolving abilities.

Sakura cheered at being paired with her crush while shooting Naruto a warning glare that clearly said don't get in my way. Sasuke remained impassive, though a flicker of annoyance crossed his features.

"Your jonin instructors will meet you after lunch," Iruka concluded. "Until then, use this time to get to know your teammates better."

As students began filing out, chattering excitedly about their assignments, Iruka called out: "Naruto, a moment please."

Reluctantly, Naruto approached the teacher's desk, already anticipating the conversation to come. Iruka waited until the room had emptied before speaking, his voice low and urgent.

"The Hokage wants to see you."

Naruto's stomach tightened. "About what happened with Mizuki?"

"Partly." Iruka's gaze dropped to Naruto's arms, where the crimson patterns had briefly appeared during the confrontation. "He has... questions about the abilities you displayed."

"Am I in trouble?" The question came out more childlike than Naruto intended, a reminder that despite everything happening to him, he was still just a twelve-year-old boy desperate for acceptance.

Iruka's expression softened. "No. But Naruto, what happened in that clearing... it wasn't normal ninja ability. It wasn't even the Nine-Tails' power, was it?"

The direct question hung between them. Naruto weighed his options—lie and maintain his secrets, or trust the one person who had consistently shown him kindness.

"No," he admitted finally. "It's something else. Something I'm still figuring out."

"Does it have anything to do with those patterns that sometimes appear on your skin? Or your eyes changing color?"

So Iruka had noticed more than he let on. Naruto nodded slowly.

"The Hokage might have answers," Iruka suggested gently. "Ancient records, historical precedents. You don't have to face this alone, Naruto."

For a moment, Naruto was tempted—to confess everything, to seek help managing the hunger and the changes. But Muzan's voice whispered caution: They will fear what they don't understand. Fear leads to containment, experimentation, control.

"I'll talk to the old man," Naruto said carefully. "But after team introductions. I don't want to miss meeting our jonin instructor."

Iruka hesitated, then nodded. "Right after. Promise me, Naruto."

"I promise." The words tasted hollow, though Naruto meant them. He would speak with the Hokage—but on his terms, revealing only what he chose to reveal.

As he left the classroom, the hunger that had temporarily receded surged back with vengeance, doubling him over in the hallway. His vision swam, crimson bleeding into the edges of his sight.

Feed, Muzan's voice insisted. Or lose control when it matters most.

Naruto straightened with effort, forcing the hunger back through sheer willpower. He needed a solution—and fast. But first, he had to meet his new team, maintain the appearance of normalcy for just a little longer.

One mask at a time.

"He's late," Sakura complained, pacing the empty classroom where Team Seven had been waiting for over two hours. Their jonin instructor was the only one who hadn't shown up to claim his team.

Sasuke sat by the window, apparently meditating, though his posture remained alert. Naruto perched on the teacher's desk, legs swinging, fighting the increasing discomfort that plagued him. The hunger had become a constant companion, gnawing at his insides like a living thing.

"Maybe he forgot about us," Naruto suggested, trying to distract himself with conversation.

Sakura rolled her eyes. "Jonin don't forget their assignments, Naruto."

"Then maybe he's testing us. Seeing how we handle waiting."

This earned him a surprised look from both teammates—the observation more perceptive than they expected from the class clown. Naruto bit his tongue, reminding himself to maintain his established persona. Revealing too much intelligence too quickly would raise questions he wasn't ready to answer.

To reinforce the impression of immaturity, he hopped off the desk and wedged an eraser between the door and frame—a childish prank that made Sakura scoff and Sasuke sigh.

"Our instructor is a jonin, an elite ninja," Sakura chided. "He's not going to fall for something so stupid."

The door slid open at that exact moment, and the eraser dropped perfectly onto a shock of silver hair. Dust puffed outward as a tall, masked man regarded them with a single visible eye, his expression unreadable beneath his face covering.

"My first impression of you all," the man said lazily, "is that you're idiots."

Naruto laughed, the sound high and forced while inwardly he was assessing this newcomer with newfound senses. The jonin's heartbeat was remarkably steady, his blood pressure so controlled it suggested either exceptional physical condition or deliberate chakra regulation. Interesting.

"Meet me on the roof in five minutes," the man said before disappearing in a swirl of leaves.

When they reassembled on the rooftop, their instructor lounged against the railing with practiced nonchalance. "Let's begin with introductions. Names, likes, dislikes, hobbies, dreams for the future—that sort of thing."

"Why don't you go first, sensei?" Sakura suggested. "Show us how it's done."

"Me? I'm Kakashi Hatake. Things I like and things I hate... I don't feel like telling you that. My dreams for the future... never really thought about it. As for my hobbies... I have lots of hobbies."

Sakura muttered under her breath, "That was totally useless. All he told us was his name."

Kakashi pointed at her. "Your turn, pinky."

As Sakura launched into a gushing introduction centered almost entirely around her crush on Sasuke, Naruto studied their new teacher more carefully. Despite his apparent disinterest, Kakashi was observing them with clinical precision—particularly Naruto himself. The jonin's visible eye kept returning to him, searching for... something.

He knows what you contain, Muzan observed. The fox, at least. Perhaps he suspects more.

When Sasuke finished his brooding introduction—centered on his ambition to kill "a certain someone"—Kakashi turned to Naruto. "Last one."

Naruto plastered on his brightest grin, fighting through the hunger pangs that threatened to double him over. "I'm Naruto Uzumaki! I like instant ramen, especially when Iruka-sensei treats me to Ichiraku's! I dislike the three minutes you have to wait after pouring hot water into cup ramen."

He continued with his standard enthusiastic introduction, watching Kakashi's eye narrow slightly when he declared his dream to become Hokage. Only at the end did Naruto add something new, testing the waters: "And I guess I'm interested in learning about my clan—the Uzumaki. I don't know anything about them."

That got reactions—a flicker of surprise from Kakashi, renewed disdain from Sakura who clearly thought he was making things up, and the barest hint of interest from Sasuke.

"The Uzumaki were indeed a clan," Kakashi confirmed after a moment, his tone carefully neutral. "Known for their sealing techniques and unusual vitality. They were allies of the Leaf before their village was destroyed."

Naruto's eyes widened. "I had a village? A real clan?"

"The Land of Whirlpools. And yes, a prominent clan." Kakashi straightened, clearly deciding he'd said enough on the subject. "Now then, we'll begin our duties tomorrow with a survival exercise."

As Kakashi explained the real genin test—revealing that only nine of the twenty-seven graduates would actually become genin—Naruto felt a surge of determination cutting through his discomfort. This was his chance to prove himself, to secure his place as a true ninja of the Leaf.

"Bring all your shinobi tools," Kakashi concluded, eye crinkling in what might have been a smile beneath his mask. "Oh, and skip breakfast tomorrow. You'll throw up."

With that ominous warning, he vanished again, leaving the three genin to digest his words.

"This is ridiculous," Sakura complained. "We already passed the graduation exam!"

"That was just to select candidates," Sasuke said quietly. "This is the real test."

Naruto nodded absently, his mind racing with implications. A survival exercise meant combat, exertion, stress—all things that had triggered manifestations of his blood abilities before. Could he keep them under control during such a test? And more pressingly, could he function at all if the hunger continued to intensify?

As they descended from the rooftop, Sasuke fell into step beside him—surprising both Naruto and Sakura.

"That trick you pulled during our last sparring match," the Uchiha said without preamble. "What was it?"

Naruto tensed. "What trick?"

"Your fingers. They changed." Sasuke's dark eyes bored into him. "It wasn't a transformation jutsu. It was something else."

So he had noticed. Naruto forced a laugh. "No idea what you're talking about, Sasuke. Maybe you need your eyes checked before you activate those fancy Sharingan!"

Sasuke's expression darkened at the mention of his clan's kekkei genkai, but he pressed on. "And against Mizuki. The whole village is talking about how you created strange clones to defeat a chunin-level ninja."

"Shadow Clone Jutsu," Naruto said, the half-truth coming easily. "I learned it from the Scroll of Sealing. Pretty cool, huh?"

Before Sasuke could respond, Naruto quickened his pace, calling over his shoulder: "See you tomorrow! Don't be late!"

He rounded the corner and immediately ducked into an alley, pressing his forehead against the cool brick wall as another wave of hunger crashed through him. His vision swam, the world momentarily tinted crimson.

You cannot keep ignoring your nature, Muzan's voice insisted. Find sustenance before the hunger finds it for you.

"I'm not drinking blood," Naruto hissed through clenched teeth.

There are... alternatives. Compromises.

The idea unfurled in Naruto's mind—not fully formed but a direction, a possibility. Raw meat. The freshest he could find, still containing vital essence without crossing the line into feeding on humans.

The thought both repulsed and compelled him. But what choice did he have? The hunger was becoming unmanageable, threatening to overwhelm his control at the worst possible moment.

Decision made, Naruto pushed away from the wall and headed for the market district, where butchers would be closing for the day, perhaps willing to sell their freshest cuts at discount prices.

He never made it that far.

The scent hit him halfway there—coppery, rich, intoxicating. Blood. Fresh blood. Before he could stop himself, Naruto was following the scent, his feet moving of their own accord, leading him to a small training ground where a chunin was bandaging a deep cut on his arm, the result of some training accident.

Naruto froze at the edge of the clearing, horrified by the intensity of his reaction. His mouth watered, canines elongating involuntarily as crimson patterns emerged beneath his skin.

Take it, Muzan urged. He'll never know. Just a taste to maintain control.

"No!" Naruto whispered fiercely, backing away. "That's not who I am!"

With monumental effort, he tore himself away from the scene, running blindly until he found himself at the village gates. Gasping for breath, he slumped against a tree, fighting for control over his transforming body.

A voice cut through his panic—familiar, lazy, deceptively casual.

"Rough day, Naruto?"

Kakashi stood a few feet away, orange book in hand but his attention fully on the struggling boy. His single visible eye took in the partially manifested changes—the elongated canines, the faint crimson patterns, the desperation in Naruto's posture.

"Stay back," Naruto warned, voice rough with effort. "I'm not... feeling well."

Kakashi closed his book with deliberate calm. "So I see. This wouldn't have anything to do with what happened in the forest with Mizuki, would it? The abilities that weren't quite like the Nine-Tails' power?"

Naruto's head snapped up. "You know about that?"

"I make it my business to know about my students." Kakashi took a step closer, seemingly unconcerned by Naruto's warning. "Especially when they're experiencing something that looks suspiciously like bloodlust."

The direct assessment stunned Naruto into silence. Kakashi knelt to eye level, his gaze clinical but not unkind.

"The Hokage is waiting for you, Naruto. I think it's time you had that conversation Iruka mentioned."

For a moment, Naruto considered fleeing—disappearing into the forest until he got the hunger under control. But the rational part of his mind knew he couldn't keep this secret forever. And if anyone might have answers about the Uzumaki clan and their connection to blood demons, it would be the Professor, the God of Shinobi himself.

"Okay," he conceded, struggling to his feet. "But I need... I need..."

"Food?" Kakashi suggested, pulling something from his pocket—a small food pill, military ration issue. "This should help temporarily. It's designed to replenish blood cells and essential nutrients for ninja who've experienced significant blood loss."

Naruto accepted the pill with shaking hands, swallowing it dry. Almost immediately, the edge of his hunger dulled—not satisfied, but muted enough that the crimson patterns began to recede.

"How did you know?" he asked quietly as they began walking toward the Hokage Tower.

Kakashi's eye crinkled slightly. "Let's just say you're not the first Uzumaki I've known with... unusual appetites."

The cryptic response raised more questions than it answered, but Naruto was too relieved by the temporary reprieve from hunger to press further. As they walked, he felt Kakashi's calculating gaze taking his measure, reassessing whatever preconceptions the jonin might have had.

"Whatever's happening to you," Kakashi said as they approached the tower, "remember that your response to it defines you more than the condition itself."

The unexpectedly philosophical observation caught Naruto off guard. He looked up at his new sensei with newfound respect, sensing there might be more to the lazy, perverted jonin than met the eye.

"I'm still going to become Hokage," Naruto said, as much to convince himself as Kakashi. "No matter what's happening to me."

Kakashi merely nodded, neither encouraging nor dismissing the ambition. "We'll see what you're made of tomorrow, won't we? Remember, training ground seven, five a.m. And don't eat breakfast."

With that, he disappeared in a swirl of leaves, leaving Naruto alone at the entrance to the Hokage Tower, steeling himself for the conversation to come.

Be careful what you reveal, Muzan cautioned. Once spoken, truths cannot be unlearned—and the old one has power to contain you if he deems you a threat.

For once, Naruto found himself in full agreement with the blood demon's assessment. He would need to navigate this conversation with unprecedented care—revealing enough to get help without exposing the full extent of what stirred within his veins.

Squaring his shoulders, he entered the tower, ascending toward a confrontation that would either secure his future as a ninja of the Leaf—or mark him as something to be feared and contained.

The Hokage's office smelled of pipe tobacco and ancient scrolls, an oddly comforting combination that reminded Naruto of the only authority figure who'd ever shown him consistent kindness. Hiruzen Sarutobi sat behind his desk, weathered hands folded atop a stack of documents, his eyes sharp despite his advanced age.

"Naruto," he greeted warmly. "Thank you for coming. Please, sit."

Naruto perched on the edge of the offered chair, hyperaware of the ANBU guards hidden in the shadows of the room. The food pill Kakashi had given him was wearing off rapidly, the hunger beginning to gnaw at him again.

"Am I in trouble for what happened with Mizuki?" he asked, deciding a direct approach might be best.

The Hokage shook his head. "On the contrary. You prevented a significant security breach and captured a traitor. The village owes you its gratitude."

Relief flooded through Naruto, though he remained wary. "Then why am I here?"

Hiruzen studied him for a long moment, his gaze penetrating enough that Naruto wondered if the old man could somehow see the crimson patterns currently dormant beneath his skin.

"Iruka reported some... unusual abilities you displayed during that confrontation. Abilities that don't align with typical ninja techniques." The Hokage leaned forward slightly. "Or with the Nine-Tails' power."

And there it was—the acknowledgment of his jinchūriki status, casually confirmed after years of secrecy and isolation. Naruto swallowed hard.

"So you know. About the fox."

"Of course. I was there the night it was sealed within you." A shadow crossed the old man's features. "What I don't know is the nature of this other power you've begun manifesting. The transformation of your limbs. The strange clones that dissolved into blood particles rather than smoke. The patterns that sometimes appear on your skin."

Naruto's fingers tightened on the arms of his chair. "You've been watching me."

"Protecting you," the Hokage corrected gently. "You've been under observation since infancy, Naruto. Not just because of the Nine-Tails, but because of certain... anomalies that appeared the night of the sealing."

"What kind of anomalies?" Naruto asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer.

Instead of responding directly, the Hokage reached into his desk drawer and withdrew an ancient scroll, carefully unfurling it across his desk. The parchment was yellowed with age, the characters written in a script so old it was barely recognizable as the language Naruto knew.

"This text dates back to before the founding of the hidden villages," Hiruzen explained. "Before the era of shinobi as we understand them today. It speaks of entities called 'blood demons'—creatures that gained power not through chakra but through their blood itself."

Naruto stared at the scroll, at illustrations that depicted transformations disturbingly similar to what he'd experienced—elongated limbs, multiple eyes, blood vessels that functioned as weapons. His mouth went dry.

"According to these records," the Hokage continued, "blood demons could alter their physical form at will, heal from virtually any injury, and create subordinates by infecting humans with their blood. They were nearly immortal, vulnerable only to complete sun exposure or specialized breathing techniques wielded by their enemies."

"Demon slayers," Naruto whispered, recalling the fragments of Muzan's memories that had seeped into his dreams.

Hiruzen's eyes sharpened. "You know of them?"

Naruto hesitated, then nodded slowly. "I've been having dreams. About a time before chakra, when samurai with breathing techniques hunted demons that fed on human blood."

"Not dreams," the Hokage said quietly. "Memories. Carried in your blood."

The direct confirmation sent a chill down Naruto's spine. "My mother's clan—the Uzumaki. They were connected to these blood demons somehow, weren't they?"

A flicker of surprise crossed the Hokage's features. "You know of your clan?"

"Kakashi-sensei mentioned them." Naruto shifted uncomfortably. "He said they were known for sealing techniques and unusual vitality. That they had their own village before it was destroyed."

Hiruzen nodded slowly. "The Uzumaki clan of Uzushiogakure—the Village Hidden in the Whirlpools. They were indeed renowned for their sealing prowess and exceptional life force. What Kakashi wouldn't know, because very few do, is that ancient texts suggest their vitality may have had... unusual origins."

The Hokage gestured to the scroll. "According to this account, centuries ago, the last great blood demon was defeated—not killed, but his essence scattered. Some legends claim fragments of his power survived in certain bloodlines, diluted but never fully extinguished."

"And you think the Uzumaki..."

"Had blood demon heritage? It would explain their extraordinary longevity and resilience." Hiruzen's expression grew solemn. "When your father sealed the Nine-Tails inside you, the massive influx of chakra may have activated dormant blood abilities carried in your Uzumaki lineage."

Naruto's head spun. The pieces were falling into place—Muzan's awakening during the sealing, the strange reaction the Nine-Tails had shown upon recognizing the blood demon's presence.

"My father," he repeated, the word foreign on his tongue. "You knew him."

The Hokage hesitated, clearly weighing how much to reveal. "Your parentage is an S-rank secret, Naruto. For your protection. But given the circumstances..." He sighed heavily. "Yes, I knew him. Quite well, in fact."

"Who was he?" Naruto's voice barely rose above a whisper, the hunger momentarily forgotten in the face of this long-withheld information.

"Minato Namikaze. The Fourth Hokage."

The revelation struck like a physical blow. Naruto gripped the chair arms so tightly his knuckles turned white, crimson patterns briefly flashing beneath his skin before he regained control.

"The Fourth was my father?" Disbelief, anger, and a desperate longing for connection warred within him. "The man who sealed the Nine-Tails inside me... was my own father?"

"He believed in you, Naruto." Hiruzen's voice softened with genuine emotion. "Believed you would master the fox's power and use it to protect the village. He could never have anticipated that the sealing would awaken something else within you—something perhaps even more ancient and powerful."

Naruto's mind raced, processing implications beyond the personal revelation. "Does anyone else know? About the blood demon connection?"

"Very few. Myself, certain ANBU assigned to monitor you, now Iruka and Kakashi." The Hokage's gaze grew penetrating. "Which brings us to the pressing matter at hand—how to help you manage these emerging abilities."

A bitter laugh escaped Naruto's lips. "You mean how to control me. Make sure I don't become a threat."

"How to ensure you don't lose yourself," Hiruzen corrected firmly. "These texts speak of blood demons consuming their hosts from within, Naruto. Of hunger that eventually overrides all human consciousness."

He's not wrong, Muzan's voice confirmed with disturbing nonchalance.

"I've been fighting it," Naruto admitted, the confession pouring out despite Muzan's warnings. "The hunger. It's getting worse. Especially since I used those powers against Mizuki."

Understanding dawned in the Hokage's eyes. "Usage accelerates the transformation. Activating the blood abilities increases the need to... feed."

Naruto nodded miserably. "I don't want to hurt anyone. But it's getting harder to control."

For a long moment, Hiruzen studied him—not with fear or disgust, but with the calculating assessment of a leader weighing options. Finally, he reached into his desk again and withdrew a small metal case.

"Blood pills," he explained, sliding the case across the desk. "More potent than standard military rations. Developed for ANBU operatives who sustain severe blood loss during missions. They should help manage your... cravings."

Naruto accepted the case with trembling hands. "Thank you."

"They're a temporary solution, Naruto. Eventually, we'll need to develop more sustainable methods for you to maintain control." The Hokage's expression hardened slightly. "Which means I need your complete honesty about what you're experiencing. No hiding symptoms, no downplaying the severity of your condition."

The demand for transparency hung between them. Naruto knew he should reveal everything—the conversations with Muzan, the blood clone technique he'd developed, the increasing facility with which he could transform parts of his body. But some instinct for self-preservation held him back.

"I'll report any changes," he promised, the careful wording allowing him to maintain some secrets. "And I'll use the blood pills to keep the hunger under control."

Hiruzen seemed to accept this, though his shrewd eyes suggested he recognized the measured response for what it was. "There's one more thing we need to discuss, Naruto. Your placement on Team Seven."

Alarm shot through him. "You're not removing me, are you? I can control this! I won't be a danger to my teammates!"

"Quite the contrary." The Hokage's lips curved in a small smile. "Your placement was deliberate. Kakashi Hatake is one of the few jonin with the skills and experience to monitor your condition while helping you develop as a shinobi. His Sharingan allows him to track changes in your chakra and... other energies."

"So he's my handler," Naruto said flatly.

"He's your sensei," Hiruzen corrected. "One specifically chosen because he has the ability to help you if the Nine-Tails' chakra or these blood abilities begin to overwhelm you."

It made tactical sense, Naruto had to admit. And better to have a powerful jonin watching his back than ANBU shadows waiting to take him down at the first sign of losing control.

"What about Sasuke and Sakura? Do they know about... any of this?"

The Hokage shook his head. "The Nine-Tails is still an S-rank secret, as is your emerging blood demon heritage. Whether to reveal either to your teammates will be your decision, when and if you feel it necessary."

Relief washed through Naruto. At least he wouldn't be starting his genin career with his teammates already fearing or pitying him.

"One last question," he said, gathering his courage. "These blood demon abilities... can they be removed? Sealed away again?"

Hiruzen's expression grew grave. "According to these texts, blood demon essence integrates with its host at the cellular level. It doesn't possess you like the Nine-Tails—it becomes you." He closed the ancient scroll carefully. "I will continue researching, Naruto. But for now, our best approach is helping you maintain control rather than attempting extraction."

Naruto nodded, accepting this reality with surprising calm. Part of him had already known the answer—had felt the truth of it in the way Muzan's presence differed from the Nine-Tails', more intimate and pervasive, woven through his very blood.

"Thank you for being honest with me, old man," he said quietly. "About everything."

The Hokage's weathered face softened with genuine affection. "You deserved the truth, Naruto. More than that—you needed it to face what's ahead."

Rising from his chair, Naruto pocketed the case of blood pills. "I should go. We have our real genin test tomorrow, and Kakashi-sensei said to get plenty of rest."

"Indeed." Hiruzen's eyes twinkled slightly. "Though I wouldn't worry too much about his advice to skip breakfast. Kakashi has... unusual training methods."

With a small smile at this insider information, Naruto turned to leave, pausing at the door. "I'm still going to become Hokage someday, you know. Blood demon or not."

The old man's chuckle followed him out. "I would expect nothing less from the son of the Fourth."

Back in his apartment, Naruto immediately swallowed one of the blood pills, sighing with relief as the gnawing hunger subsided to manageable levels. The small metal case contained twenty pills—enough to last a while if he rationed them carefully.

A crutch, Muzan's voice observed. Not a solution.

"Better than the alternative," Naruto muttered, collapsing onto his bed. The emotional and physical toll of the day had left him exhausted.

The old one told you more than I expected, Muzan continued. Though still not everything.

"What do you mean?" Naruto asked, staring at the ceiling.

The Uzumaki connection to blood demons wasn't merely ancestral heritage. It was deliberate cultivation. They sought our power, integrated it into their bloodline through rituals that would horrify your precious Hokage.

Naruto frowned. "Why would they do that?"

For the same reason humans always seek power—to protect themselves, to conquer others, to ensure survival. The Uzumaki understood that chakra alone had limitations. Blood abilities offered advantages no other shinobi possessed.

The idea that his mother's clan had willingly integrated demon blood into their lineage disturbed Naruto, yet it aligned with the exceptional sealing prowess the Uzumaki were known for. Who better to contain and harness such dangerous power than masters of containment itself?

"If what you're saying is true, then they found a balance," Naruto argued. "They used blood abilities without becoming monsters. Without losing their humanity."

For generations, yes. But balance is precarious, little vessel. And you contain not just diluted blood demon heritage, but me—the progenitor himself. My awakening accelerates what might otherwise have taken decades.

The warning sent a chill down Naruto's spine. "I won't let you take over."

It's not about 'taking over.' Muzan's voice carried an undercurrent of amusement. It's about evolution. Transformation. Becoming something greater than either human or demon alone.

Before Naruto could respond, a knock at his door interrupted the internal dialogue. Warily, he approached, senses heightened to detect any threat.

"It's just me," came Iruka's voice from the other side.

Relieved, Naruto opened the door to find his former instructor holding a bag that emitted the unmistakable aroma of Ichiraku ramen.

"Thought you might be hungry," Iruka said with a gentle smile. "Mind if I come in?"

Naruto stepped aside, genuinely touched by the gesture. The blood pill had tamed the worst of his hunger, but real food—especially his favorite—was more than welcome.

As they sat at his small table, slurping noodles in comfortable silence, Naruto felt a surge of gratitude for this simple human connection. Whatever changes were happening to him, whatever challenges lay ahead, he wasn't facing them completely alone.

"The Hokage told me about your father," Iruka said finally, setting down his chopsticks. "And about the blood pills."

Naruto tensed slightly. "What else did he tell you?"

"Enough." Iruka's expression was earnest, free from the fear or disgust Naruto had dreaded. "I want you to know that nothing changes how I see you, Naruto. You're still the same determined, unpredictable, knuckleheaded ninja who's going to make us all proud someday."

Unexpected tears pricked at Naruto's eyes. After a day of revelations and existential questions, Iruka's straightforward acceptance felt like a lifeline to his humanity.

"Even if I'm part demon?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Iruka's hand came to rest on his shoulder, warm and reassuring. "We all have darkness inside us, Naruto. What matters is the choices we make, not the blood in our veins."

The simple wisdom struck deeper than all the Hokage's explanations and ancient texts. Naruto nodded, wiping hastily at his eyes.

"Now," Iruka continued, his tone lightening, "about this test tomorrow. Kakashi's evaluation is famous—or rather, infamous. No team has ever passed on their first attempt."

Naruto's eyes widened. "What? Then how does anyone become a genin?"

"Most teams require multiple attempts. It's how he weeds out those who give up easily." Iruka leaned forward conspiratorially. "The key is teamwork, Naruto. No matter what individual challenges he sets, the real test is whether you can work together with Sasuke and Sakura."

"Teamwork," Naruto repeated thoughtfully. "Even with Sasuke being a jerk and Sakura only caring about Sasuke?"

Iruka chuckled. "Especially then. Real teams aren't formed from perfect harmony—they're forged when different personalities find common purpose."

As they finished their meal, Naruto felt more centered than he had in weeks. The hunger was temporarily sated, he had practical advice for tomorrow's test, and most importantly, he had confirmation that at least one person could know his full nature and still see him as Naruto first, vessel second.

After Iruka left, Naruto prepared for bed, reviewing the day's revelations as he brushed his teeth. In the mirror, his reflection showed no sign of the blood demon stirring beneath his skin—just a blonde boy with whisker marks and blue eyes that held more determination than fear.

Interesting, Muzan observed. Your academy teacher has given you something the Hokage could not.

"What's that?" Naruto asked, rinsing his toothbrush.

Hope that integration is possible. That you might become something unique without losing your core self.

The assessment surprised Naruto. "I thought you wanted to take over. To remake me in your image."

Evolution is more complex than simple replacement, little vessel. The most successful adaptations preserve what works while developing new advantages. Perhaps your human heart is not a weakness to be eliminated but an asset to be incorporated.

This philosophical turn from the blood demon was unexpected and somewhat suspicious. Naruto wasn't foolish enough to believe Muzan had suddenly developed concern for his humanity. More likely, the demon had realized that working with Naruto's will rather than against it offered a more efficient path forward.

Still, if temporary alignment of their interests meant maintaining control while developing his abilities, Naruto would cautiously accept the truce.

As he climbed into bed, exhaustion finally claiming him, his thoughts drifted to tomorrow's test. Teamwork with Sasuke and Sakura wouldn't come easily, but perhaps his emerging abilities might prove useful rather than dangerous—if he could control them precisely enough.

Balance, Muzan's voice whispered as consciousness faded. The Uzumaki understood it. Perhaps their descendant can master it.

Naruto's dreams that night were not of ancient battles or blood-soaked castles, but of his father—the Fourth Hokage, a man who had believed in him enough to entrust him with the village's future. Whether that man would be proud or horrified by what his son was becoming remained an open question—one Naruto was determined to answer on his own terms.

The voice within him might belong to an ancient demon, but the choices ahead remained his alone.